Daunting Silence
by ManicFanFic
Summary: Set in college. Spencer is a "special" type of person -- she can read people's minds, often not by choice. Her powers, so to speak, have hindered her relationships and love life, until she meets Ashley. All she hears is... silence. But why? non-vampiric
1. Chapter 1: Mind Reader

_**Full summary:** _Set in college. Spencer is a "special" type of person -- she can read people's minds, often not by choice. Her powers, so to speak, have hindered her relationships and love life, until she meets Ashley. All she hears is... silence. But why? Come to find out, Ashley has a secret of her own. (No, I don't do vampire Spashley, sorry. I'll leave that to the more talented writers :) but this fic idea was inspired by _Dead Until Dark_ and the Sookie Stackhouse series, now made into a tv show on HBO called _True Blood_... still, this fic is not about vampires)

**_HEY EVERYONE! It's great to be back with another fic :) I didn't wanna release it until I had a few more chapters written, but I thought I'd give you a little teaser. I'm apologizing in advance because I don't think I'll update as quickly as I did with _Delta One_ (not right now at least). Life is too crazy/busy right now. I'll try my uber best to get the next chapter out ASAP. Reviews are always welcome, though I'm grateful enough that you gave it a read! Thanks River for beta-reading! 2.21.09_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters._**

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Today was not a day I felt at my best. Nor could it have been my worst. I guess it was just a mundane winter morning. Nothing particularly special, nothing out of the ordinary… for me, that is.

I still have a blistering headache from yesterday's midterm. You can't imagine how painful it is to take a midterm in a lecture hall filled with 300 people, all thinking about different things. You've got the typical frat boys from Kappa Lambda and Sigma Alpha Sigma drooling over the girls in skinny jeans and emu boots. In turn, those girls in skinny jeans and emu boots are worrying about next week's social event, one of them worrying about her credit line in particular. And there are the ones who actually studied for the test. I never risk reading other students' minds. It drives me insane! Some of these people get their facts mixed up and their OCD-like thought processes have them dancing in circles between 'D: A and B only,' or 'E: All of the above.' I hate those questions anyway!

As much as I was tempted to pick a few brains, I stuck to what I knew. I just wish I had more time to study. The night before the midterm, I had a huge fight with Melinda, the girl I've been seeing for five months. I can't say it was the smoothest five months of my life, but it's the closest to normal I'll ever feel… or as normal as a lesbian my age can feel… a mind-reading one at that.

I met Melinda at this local dive bar, right across the street from campus, called the 'Dubliner.' It sat adjacent to the Freshman dorms. Ironic, isn't it, that they'd put a pub next to the Freshmen? The first week of school, which mainly consisted of orientation, raging parties, and the redundancy of having to tell each person you meet your name, year, and major, was when the Dubliner first opened. As a third year college student, the whole raging party and rushed introduction was no longer my scene. Been there, done that! I usually hit the bars with friends, but they were ending their summers in their hometowns. After all, anyone who's not a Freshman knows that the first week of school isn't mandatory. So I went to the Dubliner solo. I bought one drink and decided to nuzzle up against the back wall and disappear from the crowds. It makes me wonder what I did, if anything, to catch Melinda's eye that night. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought _she_ was the mind-reader. She had accurate gaydar! She approached me, with her dirty blonde hair flowing below her shoulders and her blue-green eyes meeting mine right at eyelevel. She was totally on the tipsy side as she started talking to me like the sophisticated lady she is. I peeked into her mind: she's a Freshman with a fake ID. At first I thought she was shallow, but it surprised me that she wasn't the typical Freshman out to make her mark. She was actually looking for some form of a long-term relationship! It's kinda naïve of her. But I admired her for knowing what she wanted… or at least she did at the time.

Months later, she does a 180 on me. She became distant, didn't want to go out much, wouldn't return my calls. Part of it isn't her fault: she's a freshman who's exploring the college scene, attending different social events, and meeting tons of new people everyday. I didn't want to be the one holding her back from that, but I wanted to be sure I was still in a committed relationship. It'd be nice to know from time to time, you know? It'd also save me the embarrassment of claiming to have a girlfriend, when really she's a no show and everyone thinks she's just a figment of my imagination. I wouldn't have known otherwise until I actually saw her after one of her classes. One look in her eyes was all it took to know: she was cheating on me with Vanessa, her Resident Advisor. I didn't even _try_ to read her mind. Instead, her thoughts blinded me as if she was carrying a huge neon "I'm cheating on you" sign on her back. I should've known it would be inevitable, given the close living quarters, bonding, seeing each other all the time, and eventual flirting. But I thought there were strict rules that clearly stated you couldn't hook up with your Resident Advisor. I guess _I_ was the naïve one for being so trusting.

Melinda saw me that day. Her eyes twitched as I caught her off guard. I pretended not to know, of course, especially because she and Vanessa went out of their way to keep things extremely discreet. It's not like I could accuse her of cheating after I just violated her privacy, not to mention she'd totally freak out if she knew I was "special."

A few weeks later, and after working two shifts, I finally found a moment to study for that midterm. But my very short-lived study session turned into a three-hour feud 'til 2AM. Melinda showed up at my apartment with the intent to break up so that she can run along with Vanessa. I was so ticked that she chose to do it that night, knowing I had a test to study for. I lashed out; that much of it was my fault. I brought up the cheating, and she accused me of spying on her and snooping through her things. I'd rather her accuse me of that, than her finding out I read her mind. She stormed out, not actually saying she was breaking up with me. It was almost unnecessary; her thoughts had said enough.

I gave the granite countertop one last swipe before stacking additional cups and attending to the register. There were maybe just a handful of people, quietly burying their heads in books and laptops, which made for a calming afternoon…for the most part. After all, they couldn't help it if their thoughts were prolonging my migraine.

My eyes pan to the entrance as the afternoon sun reflected off the quickly swinging front door. Cute little quaint, yet fashionably tasteful customer struts in my direction. For a second, I'm aimlessly wondering where she got those nice little polka dot flats.

"Hi," I say with a look that says I'm dead behind the eyes, "what can I get you?" It's only 5PM and I'm already wishing it were closing time.

"Can I get a venti Americano please?" She didn't even look at the menu. But I'm no longer a sucker for girls who seem to know what they want.

"Are you sure?" Oops! Did I just say that out loud?

"What?" She scoffed at the absurdity of my question, but smiled nonetheless. "Of course I'm sure!"

"S-Sorry." I shake off the embarrassment and frantically search for my Sharpie, just so I can briefly change the subject. Where the hell did I put it? Ugh… screw it! "Can I get your name?" I reach for an empty venti cup.

"Liz." She mumbled as she squinted at me from behind those dark, straight bangs hovering over her left eye. Where… the hell… did I… oh, found it! It was in my pocket. Duh! The corner of my lip curls slightly as I smile with my eyes. She noticed. "Highlight of your day?" Hmm… another mind-reader.

"Am I that transparent?" I smile. A genuine smile? Really? I almost forgot what it's like to actually smile and mean it. "Yeah, I guess you can even say this is the highlight of my week… finding my Sharpie." I hold up my prize. Sarcasm saves me sometimes.

"Must've been that midterm." Wait, what?

"What?" I squint in curiosity. "How'd you—"

"I'm in that class." She smiled as if I should've known this information already. "Dr. Steinhaus. He's a toughie."

"Yeah," I laugh nervously and divert my eyes as I carefully scribble her name on the cup. What am I supposed to say? I've never seen her before. Shows you how self-absorbed I am. That, or just completely oblivious to other people, unless they're screaming their thoughts at me.

"So… are you a psych major?

"Minor. I'm majoring in Anthro and Philosophy."

"Double major." She raised her eyebrows. "Wow! _With_ a minor too?" I nod. Oh goodness. I should've known. She was flirting with me. And telling her I'm a double major just floored her. Another girl with crazy accurate gaydar. What is going on here? Do I have on one of those sticker nametag thingies that says _Hello! My name is 'who cares, I'm GAY'_? Seriously though…

"I better get that cup of coffee for ya." I turn towards the brewing machines and duck behind them.

"Take your time! I'm in no rush." I cringe. I slowly (and I mean _very_ slowly) pour her coffee. It's nice to just hide back here. I close my eyes as I read her thoughts. Geez, she's a smart girl. Political Science major, I can tell. All she's thinking about is her Foreign Policy midterm, how to distinguish the head of state from the head of government in countries like France… and how cute I look in my green apron. Wait, what?! "Um, Spencer?" How does she know my name?

Oh yeah… I _do_ have a nametag.

"Yeah?" My eyes jolt open and I notice her leaning over the counter.

"Sorry, were you… meditating?" She smirked at the state she found me in, as she clutched her purse closer to her body.

"N-no." I put the coffee pot down and wipe up the puddle that had formed from excess coffee spilling over the brim. What is wrong with me today?

"Did you… want me to pay for that?" I must've looked completely stoned or something because she had to practically draw pictures, color them in, and explain it to me as if I were a third grader. "…the coffee?" She pointed.

"Ha, yeah!" I'm trying not to be so clumsy, but I'm a bit flustered. Whatever. I place the lid on carefully, as if I'm performing some intricate surgery, and wrap a sleeve around the cup. "Four forty-seven."

"Keep the change." She smiled, sliding over a five-dollar bill.

"Awesome! Fifty-three cents, just for me!" Sarcasm, I tell you. It's my saving grace.

"Mmhmm!" She humored me. "Hopefully that'll be a better highlight." She glanced at the bill one more time before leaving.

I scoff. Is she serious? I was joking, but whatev— what… is… this? I pick up the bill noticing some black marker seeped through. I turn it over.

Oh ho ho! She's slick… leaving her number like that… and using _my_ Sharpie. I grab the Sharpie and stuff it in my pocket as if I'm robbing the supply room. _My _Sharpie.

I'm not calling her though. Not anytime soon, at least. I'm pretty sure things are done between Melinda and I, but she never really said it. I have to know for sure. After all, _I'm_ not the cheater.

"What're you doing?" Donovan, my partner in crime, emerged from the backroom. He tied his apron on as I ripped a blank piece off the register receipt roll.

"Nothing." I say so smugly as I copy the number down and put the bill in the register.

"What's that?"

"I don't know what you're talking—" He lunged for the bill in my hand.

"Who's Liz?" He grinned. I immediately go into guerilla warfare mode, pouncing like a cheetah just to get it back.

"Give it!"

"Is she hot?"

"No," I finally pry it from his hands, "I don't know!" I turn my back on him, looking at the writing. She did have a cute way of writing her Z's. Kinda looks like a fancy 3.

"Wow," he was surprised. I looked over my shoulder. I knew what he was thinking: Melinda didn't mean that much to me if I'm able to rebound so quickly. He walked to the other side and began to pour coffee beans into the grinder.

"Donny, Melinda _cheated_ on me. And Liz gave me her number. I didn't ask for it. I didn't even flirt with her! So don't expect me to feel guilty!"

"Stop reading my mind. I hate when you do that!" He began to grind the coffee beans as if that would make it harder for me to hear his thoughts. The loud noise somewhat provided a peaceful buffer between us, and allowed for a transition in changing subjects.

"So, what were you doing back there?"

"Delivery truck came early."

"Oh." I honestly could care less, but I didn't want to go the rest of the shift not talking. I felt bad for violating his mind like that. I can't help it sometimes. It just… happens. I can't control it. Anyways, I don't feel I owe him an apology. So I hope his guy instincts kick in and he just gets over it quickly. "Did they bring more coffee cake?" Again, not caring. Just testing the waters… and sending the 'no hard feelings' vibe.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his head, careful not to ruffle his black faux-hawk.

Okay, that didn't work. Cue awkward silence.

"Listen," he called for my attention, "what Melinda did was pretty fucked up." He said so matter-of-factly. "I know it's not easy dealing with cheaters. I've been there."

"I know."

"And I'm sorry for giving you a hard time," he lazily rolled his head, "even though I was just thinking it." We laughed. "So I want you to know I'm on your side… always." Such simple words. Sometimes I do miss the simplicity of dating guys, since they tend to say what they mean.

"Thank you." I smile and nod. Not as genuine as the last, since this is a touchy subject. But I still manage to smile nonetheless.

Donny walked towards me with open arms, and we hugged.

Hours passed at the speed of molasses. The café would teeter between desolate hours and bustling hours throughout my shift, peaking around 7PM when students would drop by with their study groups after class discussions. Not good for the migraine! I remember looking at the clock at one point, and it showed 8:42PM. I did a million things after that, and it seemed time was finally flying. But I was wrong; when I looked at the clock again, it was only 8:49PM. _Sigh._ Longest night of my life.

Thoughts of Melinda would creep into my mind, and I'd feel my chest tighten. The question "how could she do this to me?" would constantly echo through my head. I had an array of answers, including the idea that maybe _I_ did something wrong. I'm trying so hard to hold back tears. I just have to keep moving forward, despite the fact that I just want to go home and curl up into the comfort of my bed.

I try shaking it off by forcing myself to focus on the tasks at hand. It was hardest during the desolate hours, when there wasn't much to do but restock and wipe down tables. That's when I go into auto-pilot mode; my body is doing the job, but my mind is elsewhere. I tried distracting myself with unnecessary and trivial tasks, such as stacking all the sugar packets facing one direction with the label up, lining up all the chairs perfectly, and vigorously washing and drying coffee pots, shakers and stirrers until they were literally spotless.

Donny looked fearful. But he knew me too well to bother me about it. He knows that this is how I deal with my frustrations: working like a maniac.

I finally let out a sigh of relief when the clock showed 10:52PM. Scratch that. It was more like a beg for mercy, rather than a sigh of relief. I was worn out, and my head felt like it had swollen twice its normal size. As the last customer left, I leaned over the countertop and buried my face in my hands.

Finally… a _little_ peace!

"Tough day, huh?" It was the first casual thing Donny's said to me all day since we talked about Melinda. He pitied me. I could tell with the tone of his voice.

"More… than… you… know." I leave my face resting against the palms of my hands before lowering even further and burying my head into my arms. I hear him washing down a few more dirty coffee pots and mixers. He nudged me playfully to elicit some type of response. I couldn't blame him. I looked like I died on that countertop.

Somehow I find the strength to pull myself through the home stretch of my shift. I start turning the chairs over on top of the tables before grabbing the mop. I could faintly hear Donny grabbing the trash and walking out through the backroom.

10:59PM.

I drag the mop and lock the front door. From the shadows of the grocery store parking lot, I see a figure approaching rather quickly. The café lighting revealed her face as she stepped closer. She looked at me with an inquisitive expression, pointing at the door. It didn't take a mind-reader to figure out what she wanted.

"Sorry, we're closed." I shrug.

"Ugh," she pulled back her jacket sleeve to look at her watch, "it's… a minute 'til. The sign says you close at 11." She grumbled from behind the glass. I seriously don't need this right now. I stop mopping and turn towards the clock situated over the menu. The second hand counted down from 3…2…1…

"It's 11." I turn around and point behind me towards the clock. "We're closed." I say with a little spite. If I wasn't being paid to be all cheery and polite, I would've been harder on her. But I'll be civil.

"I missed it by a minute." She jeered. "Are you serious?"

"Look," I stop mopping, "I don't mean to be a pain or anything, but we close at 11. Not 11:01."

"But I _need_ my latte! I sped my ass over here from Santa Monica."

"It's not like you're gonna die if you don't have your latte." I almost giggle at the desperation in this poor girl's voice. Nobody's _that_ big of a latte addict.

"You don't know that. What if I _do_ die because I don't get my latte? Would you want my death on your hands?" I laugh. I couldn't help it! But I stayed put, amidst the amusement. "C'mon! If you had let me in when I asked you to, I could've ordered my latte and been on my merry way by now." I grumble and nearly roll my eyes as she slouched and pouted. I really don't know what drove me to do it but…

"Fine." I hear myself say. Sometimes my mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

"Really?" She grinned at me in surprise. Sarcasm is super tempting right now. But, uh-uh… this doesn't warrant a response. I give her the most lethargic look of my life. You can imagine I didn't even need to try so hard. I was exhausted! I lean the mop against one of the tables and unlock the door.

"Better hurry up before I change my mind." I hold the door open for her. It amazes me that I even have this tiny ounce of kindness left in my body. At this point, I'd do anything just to get her to leave and have that small bit of tranquility back.

She followed me to the bar. I washed my hands as she sat at the counter.

"What kind of latte do you want?" I huff, amidst the sound of the water hitting the stainless steel sink.

"Vanilla latte." She hung her chin over her wrist and watched me curiously.

"Size?"

"Tall." Gah… what? I scoff. "What?" She sat up. I guess I wasn't being so subtle with my body language… and sounds.

"You hauled ass to have a _tall_ latte?"

"Yeah… and?"

"If I'm going to dirty up this machine after extensively cleaning it, I might as well make you a venti or something."

"Suit yourself." She nonchalantly leaned back into the barstool. "You know, they don't make latte's like they used to."

"Like who used to?" I furrow my eyebrows as I fill the filter with 18 grams of the dark French roast.

"The Italians." She plopped her purse onto the countertop. "A real latte consists of a double-strength coffee brewed on the stove, and poured into a cup of heated milk. None of that foam hodge-podge." Sounds a little high maintenance to me. I stop what I'm doing and rest my hands on my hips. This is getting kinda ridiculous…

"So… do you want your latte with hot milk or with steamed milk then?" Please don't make my day any worse. I don't get paid overtime, you know?

"I'll take the hodge-podge." Thank you! She smiled with her eyes. She probably sensed the tiredness in my voice.

"I make a mean hodge-podge vanilla latte." I try to bring my energy back. Misery can be contagious.

"I bet." She was just being polite as her eyes wandered aimlessly around the café.

"So… I take it you've been to Italy." I start the espresso machine.

"Yeah. Lived there for a couple of years." Hmm… Interesting!

"Really? What part?"

"Tuscany." She grabbed her phone which was set on vibrate. "Near Florence." She sounded like she'd been asked that question so many times. I figure that's all I'm gonna get out of her, since she shook it off like it was no big deal. "Hello?" She answered the phone as she hopped off the stool and walked outside. That's probably best since I was about to start the frother to steam the milk.

She left her purse here… on the countertop. I watch her from behind the brewers as I froth the milk. She paced back and forth, but not once did she turn to check on her purse. She's pretty trusting. No, more like… really naïve. How does she know I'm not gonna go through her purse and steal her stuff? Strange girl…

"Ugh," she strut back in after ending her call, "women."

Really? No, let's make sure. I don't want to make assumptions…

"Is your… _friend_ giving you some trouble?" She climbed back on top of the barstool and tossed her phone in her purse.

"Something like that." Again, she shook it off. Whatever. I'm not going to push the question. I yawn effortlessly as I pour the espresso in a large cup. I take a clean spoon and gracefully line the top with my frothy concoction. Just a few squirts of vanilla and I'll be done! "Spence?"

I _really_ gotta do something about this nametag. It trips me out when strangers call on me. And _Spence?!_ Who does this girl think she is?

"Yeah?"

"I appreciate you doing this for me, especially since I'm nothing but a stranger to you." Indeed… nothing but a strange girl. I cap the cup, wrap a sleeve around, and place it in front of her.

"Well, that can't be right." I stick my hand out. She looked at me awkwardly. "Hi, I'm Spencer," I say with the most energy I've had all night. Even I'm surprised!

"Hi, Spencer," she shook my hand hesitantly, at first, but grateful nonetheless. She said my name as naturally as if we'd been buddies forever. "I'm Ashley."

"Nice to meet you, Ashley."

"Likewise." We shared a complacent moment, and again, that genuine smile crept onto my face. "So," we let go, "how much do I owe you for all the trouble?"

"Four seventeen." She reached in her wallet and slapped a fifty on the countertop.

"Keep the change." Is she trying to show off? Or is she just plain crazy?

"That's one expensive latte." Ashley hopped off the chair and carefully took a sip.

"No," she grabbed her purse, "that's what I call one mean hodge-podge latte. Worth every penny." The brunette walked out the front door and disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot.

The exhaustion snuck up on me again. I just need to get home already! I began to close the register as Donny came back. He had his apron off and tightly rolled in one hand. He noticed the espresso machine was on, and that I had dirtied a mug and a pitcher. It didn't take him long to realize what had happened.

"Who was here?" He stood absolutely still and pointed at the machine as if he were Sherlock Holmes, scavenging for more clues.

"A customer."

"Friend of yours?"

"No one in particular." I turned the machine off and proceeded to clean the dirty utensils. "A stranger… if you will." I turned my nose up and mocked. He spotted the bill and almost dove for it. "Hey, that tip is mine!"

His thoughts surrounded the name of Liz.

"No, it wasn't Liz." Pfffft. Donny's an awesome friend, but he's awfully nosey for a guy.

"What did this customer order?" He sounded slightly disappointed when he found the bill had no writing on it.

"Just a latte."

"Let me get this straight." He leaned up against the counter. "You open the door after hours to a stranger, make a latte out of charity for the poor soul, and this person just so happens to leave you a hefty tip?"

"Mmhmm. 'Kill 'em with kindness,' I always say."

"Riiiiiight." He squinted at me in skepticism.

"And it wasn't like she was an obnoxious customer either."

"She?" Donny shifted his weight and crossed his arms. "Oh, okay… I see what this is now."

"What?" Oh goodness. Here we go…

"Was she hot?"

"What?! No! Stop asking me that!" See what I mean? Nosey as hell… and shallow, might I add.

"Well," he placed the fifty back on the countertop, "whatever it is that you do, I hope you decide to share the wealth next time… or at least teach me your secrets." I laugh as I walk around the counter to lock the front door.

I turn and reach for the mop. I could hear Donny's thoughts: He was completely bewildered with the idea that someone would willingly spend fifty dollars on a latte. What was she thinking?

…And then I finally realized something.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to him.

"What?" He wrinkled his eyebrows at my baffled expression.

"I have absolutely no idea what she was thinking. Her thoughts were… completely silent."


	2. Chapter 2: Mind Eraser

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_**Hey everyone! Sorry it took a long time to update (wtf? a month?!)... **__**I'm having trouble with the fact that Spencer will be acting quite "out of character" in the beginning part of this story... I kinda don't like that. But as the story progresses, I think that good ol' Spencer we've grown to love will develop. THANKS EVERYONE FOR READING/REVIEWING/BEING PATIENT! You guys definitely motivated me and I appreciate the time you took out of your busy lives! Thanks River (my beta) for not letting me post a mediocre chapter 2 with a terrible cliffhanger!! **__**Hi my readers from Delta One *waves frantically* :D Love you guys! *muah!* 01shane01: sorry, no vampires in this one! But I used your "airhead" idea LOL... lonefenix: i'm so flattered :)**_

I'll do my best to shoot out the next chapter way sooner than a MONTH! EEK! Enjoy :) 3.24.09

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters._**

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_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Ugh. Curse the wretched alarm clock… and its monotonous buzzing! I can feel my eardrums quiver as I continue to cringe at the horrid object. I curl up even tighter while trying to drown out the obnoxious noise.

My bed feels ridiculously comfy this morning. I've got my plush comforter drawn to my waist, and I even have one of those incredibly soft polyester blankets hugging my upper body. Hmm… so hard to want to move right now, especially with it being freezing cold everywhere else outside of my warm little fortress.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Sadly, with every last effort, I fail at ignoring the alarm clock that beckons me and mandates my life within the boundaries of time. I roll over and squint at the clock.

5:04AM.

I'm opening this morning. _Saturday_ morning. It's nice to have Fridays off, but a curse to be the opening shift on a Saturday. A Saturday after midterms… after the Friday night celebratory "we're officially done with midterms" partying… after a harsh (unofficial) break up.

_Sigh_.

Time, they say. Time is what it takes to heal. The same Time that I live my life by is the same cruel Time that will not hasten the healing of a broken heart.

My life… officially… sucks.

"Spencer!" Madison snarled as she charged through my door. _"God, you look like shit,"_ she thought.

"Good morning to you, too." I grumble.

"Either get up and shut that alarm off… or I'll throw it out the window!"

"Alright!" I jump up. "Mad—" Oww! What _is_ that? I press my hands against my temples. Must sit back down.

"Mmhmm…" she pursed her lips and cocked her head as if I deserved this nauseating feeling, "you never listen."

My head is throbbing. I wanna yack. Clearly… I'm hungover.

"What do you mean?" I'm confused.

"Last night, I told you not to drink too much because you had to work early the next day."

"I don't even remember dr—" She burst into laughter. Argh. "Can you please refrain from cackling? It's not making me feel any better." I lie down again.

"You were _so_ drunk last night. You even told me 'I don't think I'm gonna remember tonight.'" She walked in further and shut my alarm for me before sitting at the side of my bed. "You totally passed out right after you said that."

Everything that happened last night was such a big blur. I really didn't remember anything that happened after I had my fifth drink… at least I think it was my fifth. Who knows how many I had altogether?

Last night was Sarah's 21st birthday. Sarah is Donny's high school sweetheart. They've had their ups and downs, from having their honeymoon moments, to being at each other's throats. But when the dust settles, there's no one else they'd rather go through hell and back with. I swear they're going to get married someday, and grow old together. They wouldn't have it any other way.

Anyways, Sarah decided she wanted a small dinner. Nothing too crazy. Just the _five_ of us.

Five.

It wasn't too long ago that when we made dinner reservations, we would ask for a table for six. But this would be the first time I'd be the fifth wheel. I suppose it's something I should be getting used to.

So Aiden, Madison and I met up with Donny and Sarah at Jack's Crab Cantina around 7. You could spot Sarah a mile away with her platinum blonde hair and the not-so-subtle Amy Winehouse 'do. Thankfully, it was only during special occasions when she felt the need to exaggerate her look in order to draw even more attention to herself. To top it off, she proudly wore the _It's My Birthday!_ tiara that Donny bought her.

They stood from the table and greeted us with hearty hugs. I forced a smile across my face and handed Sarah a gift bag and birthday card. But I really suck at hiding my emotions. They always seem to creep up on my face somehow. I didn't realize the attitude I was exuding until I heard Sarah thinking, _"I _really_ hope she doesn't make this night about herself."_

"Don't worry. I won't." I smirked as I took my coat off and draped it around the chair.

"Spence, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay." I waved it off as I sat down. The other three were confused. But they proceeded to sit down and dismiss our little side comments. Sarah placed her gifts on the empty chair next to her, which sat directly across from me. I looked at the two couples sitting across from one another to my right, and forced back the lump in my throat. After all, Sarah was right: this night is about her; it's a birthday party for her… not a pity party for me.

Of course, that didn't stop me from dulling my sorrows.

"Hi, welcome to Jack's…" I didn't pay much attention to what the waitress was saying. But the second I heard her tone end in a question mark, I interjected.

"Can we start off with a pitcher of Sangria? And a Cadillac margarita for the birthday girl over there?" I smiled at Sarah, who slightly cringed knowing we were going to get her shit-faced tonight.

"Can I see everyone's ID first?" Sarah happily handed hers over. "Okay, I'll let you folks take another look at the menu while I bring out your drinks, and some chips and salsa." She placed the IDs on the table before leaving.

"Geez, Spence," Aiden crossed his arms over the table and peeked over since Madison was sitting between us, "you don't kid around, do you?"

"It's not every day you turn 21." I shrugged it off and smiled at Sarah. Anything to direct the spotlight off of my brief alcoholic bout.

"Yeah, but," Donny had to vocalize his thoughts, "we're still going to the Dubliner after dinner."

"Which is why we need to get this night started off right!" I blurted. I was getting annoyed, since I've obviously failed at redirecting the spotlight. Time to change the subject. "So, Sarah," I grinned, knowing I was getting at least a little better at hiding my melancholy attitude, "what'd Donny get you for your birthday?" Her eyes lit up.

"Oh!" She lifted her arm, "he got me the Tiffany's bracelet I wanted." She shook her wrist to add to the sparkly-ness. I had to admit, it was gorgeous. "Remember, Spence? The one I've been eyeing from the Spring catalogue?"

"Really?" I looked at Donny, "how'd you get it if it's not even out in stores yet?"

"I have my ways." He responded so smugly. "You might be great at reeling in big tips, but I get the real hook-ups around here."

Uh oh. I hear it coming…

"Yeah, Aid," Donny's gaze panned, "did you know Spencer racked up fifty plus dollars in tips… in _one_ shift?"

"What?"

"_For _one_ night, can we talk about something else besides Spencer?"_ Sarah rolled her eyes as her boyfriend, the nosy gossip queen, filled Aiden in on the details. I felt bad, but the situation was kinda out of my hands. She looked at him sideways. _"It's like… he's in love with her or something." _She caught herself, realizing damn well that I was more than within earshot. Sarah looked at me abruptly. I shook my head in sincerity, hoping she didn't actually believe that. He's my best friend… and I consider her just as close.

"Please don't believe that," I said under my breath.

"I have to use the restroom." She pulled her loose strands behind her ears and stood up. For a second, Donny paused to her attention. I hoped it'd be the end of him telling my life story…

"Okay," he nodded, "do you know what you want to order?"

"Order whatever." Sarah sounded kinda bummed. She grabbed her clutch and walked to the restroom. I really wish there was an on-and-off switch for my powers. Normally, I'd pretend I didn't hear that. But I think I really need to talk to her about it later. I don't want her thinking that about me and Donny. Sure we love each other, but we don't _love_ each other. Almost simultaneously, our waitress brought our drinks.

"So you got some chick's number, huh?"

Boys. They all share that perverted mindset.

"Are you gonna call her?" Madison almost got whiplash from bobbing her head around.

"Wha…? No!" I got a little uncomfortable knowing the waitress was eavesdropping. So I waited a little. She raised a brow at me and hesitantly left. She wished she could stick around for the whole conversation. "Well, I mean," I leaned in closer, "I still have to talk to Melinda."

"What?!" Madison's eyes grew wide.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Donny shook his head. "What do you need to talk to her about?"

I shrugged. They wouldn't understand if I explained myself a million times. The truth is… I want closure. I wanna hear it from the horse's mouth. Sure we fought. She said some harsh things. I said some harsh things. She broke up with me… in her head. But she never actually _said_ it.

"Melinda's moved on, Spence." Aiden leaned back into his chair. "I saw her yesterday with Vanessa."

"Mmhmm. I guess they're no longer hiding it." Madison didn't mind being so blunt. "She looked happy."

"Not helping." I sulked.

"My point is… stop feeling sorry for yourself, chica." She poured the Sangria. "You've got someone's number. That's a plus! You're off to a good start." She handed me a glass.

"Yeah," Donny chimed in, "and you haven't told me what went down with the big spender you served after hours." He wiggled his eyebrows. "What was her deal anyway?" He pointed to his forehead inquisitively.

"I-I don't know." I started to feel overwhelmed and inundated with everyone's thoughts… and trying to distinguish mine from theirs. "I couldn't read her. It was…"

"Weird?"

"…calming." It really was. Yet, I shook it off. It couldn't be real. "But who knows? I was really drained that day."

"Have you ever encountered someone whose mind you couldn't read?" Aiden vocalized his thoughts.

"Well… no. But—"

"What if she's just a total airhead? Hence the fifty dollar tip." Donny slammed his hand down, grinning in confidence to having solved the mystery. I shook my head as his remark elicited a smirk from my lips.

"I was just tired. Sometimes I'm able to drown people out." I nodded as I ran my finger over the condensation dripping from my glass. "Sometimes." Everyone took their glasses as I saw Sarah en route from the restroom. I leaned in again. "I'd appreciate it if you ixnayed all this talk about me. It's _Sarah's_ day."

"Hey babe!" Donny broke our little huddle as Sarah made her way to her seat. He laid it on real thick, which made us look not so inconspicuous. "This is for you." He pushed the margarita in front of her, and raised his glass with the other hand. "I'd like to make a toast." He looked all googly-eyed at her as he just realized how neglected he'd made her feel earlier.

"To what?" She rolled her eyes.

"To the most beautiful woman," he kissed her cheek softy, "born this day twenty-one years ago." Donny smiled, not breaking eye contact. We raised our glasses. "My wonderful girlfriend."

"Cheers!" We chanted and toasted, sipping our drinks carefully. I could tell with Sarah's change in thought that she was finally starting to have some fun on her birthday. She actually enjoyed her margarita as she smiled and nuzzled under Donny's arm.

My glass quickly found itself at empty. What's gotten into me?

I really didn't care anymore. I poured another.

I remember mumbling my order to the waitress. And sometime during the night, our food came. I couldn't taste my food anymore; my face was numb, my taste buds were numb, everything inside was numb. It was nice! I could no longer distinguish people's thoughts from what they were actually saying. I dropped my guard and I could care less. We were all having a great time… laughing, joking, teasing one another. Not sure what it was that was so funny, but I remember feeling out of breath and my cheeks burning from laughing so hard. I really had fun! _We_ really had fun!

That's all I could think to remember right now.

"I didn't pass out in the bathroom, did I?" I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Not at Jack's." Madison scoffed. "But you did pass out in the one at the Dubliner."

"Shit." I respond monotonously. "I don't remember much of what happened after Jack's. Did I do anything stupid?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" She was astonished.

"Oh god!" I force every muscle in my body to work with me as I sit up. "What did I do?" My eyes didn't blink.

"Girl, you're gonna be late for work!" Madison pointed at the clock as she got up and walked towards the door. She purposely averted thoughts about last night. It had something to do with Melinda. Something happened. That's as much as I got out of her.

"What _about_ Melinda?!" Oh… shit! "Mad, what'd I do?!"

"Go to work!" She ignored my panicked voice. "Aiden told me to tell you he has you covered for half an hour, but you'd better get there ASAP so he doesn't have to deal with the morning rush by himself."

I huff as I jump up and follow her into the hallway. She practically ran away from me and locked herself in her room.

Something happened last night… and it's driving me crazy not knowing.

I cringe as the blood rushes to my head and I feel my stomach curdle. I duck into my bathroom across the way and just blow chunks of multicolored I-don't-know-what into my toilet. I frantically brush my hair aside. Can't get vomit in my hair!

I hear Madison's thoughts – just a bunch of lyrics from the Lady GaGa CD she downloaded onto her iPod. Clever bitch. She does this whenever she's got something to hide from me.

My knees shift around on my lavender bath rug while I hug the porcelain. I can hear the music blaring from her headphones as she grabs my hair and ties it in a messy ponytail.

"Want me to call Donny to cover your shift today?" Her loud, sympathetic voice echoed in my tiny bathroom as she rubbed circles on my back. There are very few people in this world whose actual voices deafen me more so than their own thoughts – Madison happens to be one of them.

"N-no." I manage to grumble. Oh god, it feels like I'm dying! My abdomen continues to convulse as the nausea dwells. "I'll be there. Just… give me a sec." I lay my head against my forearm and shut my eyes.

Getting ready for work took centuries. And it didn't matter to me that I left the apartment at 6:42 AM. Sure, I felt bad leaving Aiden to tend to the rush of morning customers. But I couldn't help my body moving in slow mo. I also knew I wouldn't run into any issues with management. Our manager only shows up on Sundays and the assistant manager has the weekends off.

The only tangible thought and single motivation for me holding my stomach down and marching forth is figuring out what the hell happened last night. And if anyone's got a weak mind, it's definitely Aiden.

I walk in through the back door and head up the narrow staircase to a very short corridor. The manager's office sits at the top, next to a small coat closet which has been deemed the "employees' cubby." Across the way is a door leading out to the roof – the "employee lounge." Charles, the café manager, tried to spruce the roof up a bit – white plastic patio furniture and umbrellas to shield us from the sun or rain. Of course the umbrellas had to be green to match our company colors. Sadly, Charles had always been a cheapo. He couldn't even afford to put _real_ shrubs in those planters nestled in the corners of the "lounge," not to mention the roof was covered in gravel. Needless to say, employees preferred not to take their breaks there.

I toss my purse and coat into the cubby before tying my apron on. The second I walk onto the floor, I take a deep breath and brace myself for what appears to be the start of another long day. The line died down quite a bit and Aiden seemed to have things under control.

"Oh!" He jumped at the sight of me before shoving his cell phone into his pocket. "Hey Spence!" Wow. That was so stealthy of him. "What's up?" He was trying too hard.

"Text from Madison not to talk slash think about last night?" I squint in suspicion.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Aiden responded sheepishly as he filled the espresso machine with fresh grinds.

"Yeah, right." I snicker. "Who are you trying to fool?" I proceed to the register. "I can help you right here." I notice this older gentleman staring at the menu, his arms crossed with newspaper in hand. He looked so stern trying to figure out which one was better: the organic Arabian blend or the Sumatra blend? I saw his lips moving, but could barely make out a word he was saying…

"_Spicy Arabian Night recipe: One tablespoon of sugar to one tablespoon of Arabian mocha blend. A fourth teaspoon of cinnamon. An eighth teaspoon of cardamom. One teaspoon of vanilla. White chocolate mocha recipe: Three ounces of white chocolate syrup. Two cups of Half & Half. Mix to three cups of the Colombian blend…"_

I look over my shoulder in disbelief.

"Aiden!"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm," he looked at me confusedly, "filling the espresso machines?"

"…and reciting the recipes in your head!" I whisper rather loudly. "Why?" He shrugged, trying to play stupid. Madison blasts her iPod. Donny walks away. And Aiden? Well, he recites recipes we were required to memorize when hired… or he'll flood his mind with useless information, often thinking about shallow, masculine things… like tits and ass. Oh, if Madison only knew… "Can you at least think _quietly_?" I clear my throat and turn towards my customer. "Sorry about that. What can I get for you?"

"As I was saying, which—" I'm getting antsy. Ugh… my stomach just did a somersault!

"Right, right… the Arabian or the Sumatra." I brace myself against the counter. "Well the uh… the Arabian has a distinct, pungent aroma with a slight flowery, fruity taste and…" Ugh! Gonna vom! I pause, taking deep breaths. I can feel my mouth water the way it does during the pre-vom stage.

"Are you okay?" I must've looked like I was participating in a Lamaze class.

"…the Sumatra… has uh… a rich, robust, woody taste." I breathe it out, tightening my abs to suppress the churning of my tummy. "I'm fine." I could feel my body going into a cold sweat.

"How'd… you know?" He pointed at me. "How'd you know I was debating between the Arabian and the Sumatra blend?"

"You mentioned it, didn't you?" I really couldn't remember amongst Aiden's recipe recital.

"No, I never did." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I uh…" time to turn up the charm, "you seem like the type of guy who faces life head first, fearlessly plunging into whatever your daily life throws you. I figured you were looking for a subtle, yet bold taste this morning." I lie my ass off. "The Arabian and the Sumatra are our most popular blends."

"Hmm… interesting observation." He nodded, satisfied with the answer I fabricated and practically hand-fed to him. "In that case, I'll have a grande Sumatra."

"Excellent choice, sir." I reach for a cup with my trusty Sharpie ready at my bidding. "Name?"

"John." I scribble his name down and ring him up.

"That'll be three seventy-eight." He handed me exact change. "Your coffee will be ready in just a sec."

"Grande Caramel Macchiato for Natalie." Aiden's voice echoed from the other end of the counter. I keep my eye on him, trying to _eavesdrop_ on his thoughts. Talk about useless information – he couldn't help but grin at the naïve, petite-looking girl as he handed her the hot drink. He was definitely checking her out… and I'm not talking about her face; his eyes were glued to the area eight inches below there.

I pace to the coffeemaker sitting halfway between us. He turned to help the next customer, but not before flashing another smile at the poor gal. She practically melted right then and there, and threw a few extra dollars into our tip jar.

"You flirt." I mumble. He looked up at me and at that moment, he dropped his guard.

"_You're one to talk. You _know_ what you did last night."_ He shrugged. "I'm just working my charm to get extra tips… just like you."

"Okay, enough." I lower my voice and turn towards him as I let the coffee drip into the cup. "What happened last night?!" He cringed, desperately trying to flood his head with more mindless crap.

But it wasn't working. I squint at him as I sort through and pick out a few of his thoughts. Something about Melinda… at the Dubliner… and Vanessa was with her…

And I did _what?!_

Oh geez. Now it's all starting to kinda piece itself in my mind… in blurry, muffled memories. Kinda like analog television before digital cable existed…

"EDDIE!" Aiden yelled over the music blaring from the speakers. It was Reggae night and the DJ was kicking the post-midterms party with some tunes from Slightly Stoopid's album. I love Reggae! It was the perfect mellow beat that I needed to tame my wild, inebriated stupor.

Eddie, Aiden's former dorm buddy, was recently promoted to supervisor at the Dubliner. But regardless of what type of position he'd get promoted to, they could never tear him away from bartending on the busy nights. He lives to bartend! Eddie didn't hesitate to put down the shaker in his hands and walk to the other end of the bar to give Aiden a high-five.

"What's up, bro?" Eddie has a smile that would make Paul Walker jealous. "Haven't seen you in a long while. What've you been up to?"

"Same ol'… just working at the café and going to school full-time." Aiden pulled Madison closer to the bar, and I just so happened to be dangling off her other arm. Donny and Sarah squeezed in behind us. The bar was pretty crowded. We didn't make it in 'til after 10. I guess we just lost track of time at Jack's.

"Hey stud!" Madison leaned over the bar to hug him. But she kinda forgot I was using her as my crutch. Thank goodness Aiden was there to catch me. "It's so good to see you!" Eddie used to be attached to Aiden's hip, back when we were freshmen. So it was only natural that Madison grew to love the guy almost as much as her own boyfriend. And if Aiden were to ever have a twin, it'd be Eddie. They were identical in every way, with the exception that Eddie was beefier… and blonde… and kinda a sexist.

"I'm glad you guys came!" His eyes gazed over in excitement before he noticed me. I knew I looked all frumpy and disgusting, but it was hard to actually care. "Hey Spencer." He nodded.

"Hey Eddie." I squinted. On any other sober day, I would categorize this encounter as awkward. But I was drunk… and everything's much more amusing when you're drunk.

Eddie and I have history. _Brief_ history. Long story short, Aiden and Madison tried to hook us up during the later part of our freshman year, back when I could've sworn I was straight. My boy-crazy hormones didn't mind one bit. Eddie's hot! Any girl would die to be with a guy like him. But that's all that Eddie was – a hot commodity with nothing special going on in that head of his… or that cavity in his chest where his heart's supposed to be. Not to mention, the timing was off – shortly after, I'd started to show interest in "playing for the other team." The day I told him I wasn't really interested, he went on some vengeful spree, trying to surround himself with random women to get me jealous. I totally put him in his place when he saw me on a date with a girl that week. I think he even told Aiden one time that I had actually broken him. Now I think I understand him a bit more – the cockiness and the macho exterior were all he had, since he was convinced he had turned me gay.

Years have passed… and in that time, most people grow up. But Eddie is not most people. He's still that same cocky meathead. I'm glad Aiden matured more so than Eddie. Otherwise, we wouldn't be friends. I give Madison props for taming the hound that Aiden once was.

"You wish!" I blurted, knowing damn well what he was thinking.

"I wish what?" He scoffed. We didn't know each other long enough for me to trust him with my secret.

"Um," Madison interrupted, "Eddie, these are our friends, Donny and Sarah." Eddie shook Donny's hand with Sarah draped all over him. She hugged my best friend tightly, and barely acknowledged Eddie's presence.

"It's my birthdaaaaaay!" She snapped her fingers, "so make yourself useful and gimme five Mind Erasers, hun." God bless Sarah. If she had a special power, it'd be the ability to detect assholes like Eddie and have every right to be such a bitch to them.

"Hey, be nice!" Donny retorted as Eddie raised his eyebrows. It's been awhile since a girl's talked to him like that.

"Don't mind her." Madison rolled her eyes, "she's drunk. So is Spence."

"Apparently." He walked away all butt-hurt. Ha!

We still got our Mind Erasers as requested by Princess Sarah. In fact, we had several. Too many to count. And they stayed true to their name because I think sometime during the night, I blacked out… more than once. I have no idea how long or what time. Aiden says it was like the lights were on, but no one was home – I was talking, dancing, laughing… but I had no recollection of it.

Later into the night, I think I sobered up a smidge. I sobered up enough to recognize that Melinda was there… with Vanessa. According to Aiden, I carelessly pushed my way through the crowd to where they were dancing, and I…

"What the fuck?!" I snarled.

"Spence…" I saw her lips spell out my name. I couldn't hear a damn thing in there.

"Don't you… fffffuckin' say my naaaame!" I scolded her like the child she was, despite _my_ drunken, child-like demeanor.

"Spence, you're drunk." Thank you, Captain Obvious! "I think you need to go outside and get some fresh air." She tried to put her hand on my shoulder to guide me towards the door, but I flinched. "Go cool off!"

"How could you _do_ this to me?" Sadly, when your face is numb, you lose the ability to hold tears back. I looked a mess with running mascara and squinty eyes. "We're not done talking, Melinda! You owe me that much!"

"I'm _not_ gonna have this conversation with you again!" She yelled, but it was difficult to comprehend with the blaring music, flashing lights, and my own incoherence.

"Hey!" Vanessa tried to break our spat by stepping in between. "You need to let it go!" She glared at me from where she was standing… nearly 3 inches from my face. She didn't intimidate me. She's my age and maybe an inch shorter than me. I could totally take her down.

"Fuck you!" I pushed her. But before she could retaliate, I felt someone practically restrain and drag me to the other side of the bar where the tables were. Donny shoved me into an empty booth and now I was at the receiving end of the scolding. His mouth was moving, funny sounds in the form of words spewed out, but who knew what he was saying? I certainly didn't. I just remember people's stares fixed in my direction after the scene I had caused…

I _think_ it was a few minutes later when Madison came by and cleaned the make-up that had stained my cheeks. She had tried to sober me up with water. But when she wasn't looking, I ordered more shots from the waitress and put it on Donny's tab. I was so pissed at him for what he did earlier. He could pay for all my drinks for all I care.

The memories pieced together like a bad strobe-lighting effect. I faintly remember a sultry little number sitting next to me in the booth. She seemed familiar… and she definitely lightened up the mood. We drank, we laughed, we flirted…

…and we made out. Oh god! I hope I didn't suck! Numb face, numb lips. I could've been drooling all over her… literally! She'd definitely gotten Melinda off my mind though.

Cut to a memory in the restroom with me puking my brains out. Madison was there again, tying my hair up and holding my shoes for me. Good thing she remembered my Stilettos. They were quite expensive! With her loud voice echoing against the tiled walls, I couldn't tell whether she was yelling at me or not…

And then I woke up in bed this morning.

"Aiden!" I gasp, trying desperately to lower my voice. "Who was she?"

"You told us her name's Liz."


	3. Chapter 3: Fragments

**_Gah! I have so much to say, but I'll keep it short (hopefully)...  
_****_1: So so soooo SORRY for the delay! This was not on hiatus! I've been struggling with plot development (I still am) and worked on this a lil each week. I'm still not satisfied with the outcome of this chapter, but oh well! I'm my worst critic.  
2. ...which brings me to ask: please let me know what's good/what sucks!  
_****_3. Not the best/most interesting chapter, but I have to lay some ground work. Next chapter will start kicking it up a notch ;)  
4. Please ignore verb tense from first 2 chapters. I decided to go with past tense actions, but present tense narrations... eh, hopefully you see the changes as minor._****_  
5. Like _Delta One_, I promise an ending to this story... and every story I write. Never on hiatus, but I do lag like a mofo! (Once I have a solid plot, updates shouldn't be a prob)_**

**_And most importantly_****_: THANKS FOR READING/REVIEWING/BEING MORE THAN PATIENT! :D Thanks for the critique, River! esp. with you being super duper busy and all..._**

**_ENJOY :) 5.13.09_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters._**

* * *

"Really?" I was so baffled. "I said that?" I made out with Liz? I barely know the girl, not to mention I've never randomly made out with a complete stranger before. That's just not me… even when I'm shit-faced.

"Mmhmm." Aiden quickly rinsed some canisters before starting the next drink. "I gotta say, Spence," he poured some cream into a cup, "you have amazing taste! She kept you smiling… and she's _way_ hotter than Melinda." He grinned, diverting his attention to placing a lid on the cup. "_Way_ hotter." He stressed.

"Thanks?" I was completely frozen in place. Some of the customers gawked at me, wondering if I was gonna pass out in any second. They thought I looked pretty pale. Sheesh! I know I haven't been working on my tan, but that's not very nice of them to judge me for being pigmently-challenged.

"Are you alright?" John, my forgotten customer, glared at me intently. "You don't look too well."

"I-I'm fine." No, I wasn't. I started to hyperventilate as I felt my stomach do a double back spring somersault. Oh not good…

"Here's your Sumatra, sir." Aiden handed him his drink.

"Thank you." He nodded, but was quite hesitant to leave. Keep it moving people! There's nothing to see here! I know I look like a bad car wreck waiting to happen, but…

"I'm just gonna…" I pointed behind me. By the time Aiden got my drift and nodded reassuringly, I was already in the storage room sprinting for the back door. It probably would've made more sense if I veered left into the employee restroom, which was closer. But I lost all coherent thought at that point.

It was another waterfall of every color from the rainbow spectrum. This time, no food chunks. Awesome! I gagged and coughed, feeling every vein in my head constrict. My ears went deaf for a second. I couldn't breathe. My abs tightened and I began to cough out bile. Not good at all…

I hate yacking.

"_What the—?"_ I looked up after hearing footsteps quickly approach. "Spence! What happened to you?"

"Glen?" I coughed once more and nearly hiccupped trying to gasp for air. "What are you doing here?" I rasped as he took notice to my paler complexion.

"Aiden told me you were back here."

"You still haven't answered my question." I finally found myself standing upright.

"Gee, you know Spence?" He leaned against the wall, soaking in his sarcasm. "I would've called, but I guess I'm just sick of conversing with your voicemail. You haven't answered my calls since—"

"I'm not going!"

"Oh you're going alright." Glen retorted so matter-of-factly.

"Stop treating me like a child, Glen!"

"Well, you're _acting_ like one."

"Why should I go?" I threw my hands up during my dramatic tirade. "She doesn't even want me there."

"She wants you there, Spence." His voice lulled in sincerity. "She misses you. We all do." He paused. "But you know mom. She's too prideful to admit it." In that split second, I felt my chest tighten. The anxiety squeezed my throat and scorched my cheeks… and my eyes watered. To think mom can actually be human is nearly impossible. She is void of emotions and everything motherly.

"I don't care," I took a deep breath and fought back the tears. I _cannot_ cry anymore. My eyes have already suffered a serious drought. Maybe I should ration my tears -- Melinda got about 50 percent of my tears, my own self-pity gets the other 50… and mom gets zero. "I'm not going." If I could, I'd give half of my tears to happiness, and the other half to everything else that matters just as much.

"Don't be difficult. I'm not leaving 'til you come with me." He gave me the most serious look he could conjure up. "I'll wait in my car 'til you're off work if I have to." This was serious. _He _wasserious. There was no convincing him otherwise and he wasn't going to let up.

Glen's finishing his last year at San Diego State University. After finishing a few classes at the community college, he easily transferred into their Occupational Therapy program two years ago. The University was also very impressed with his coaching skills that they made him one of the assistant coaches of the basketball team as of last year. It was tough for many of the players to listen to a coach who was their age, if not a little younger. But as time progressed, he slowly earned their respect.

Glen kept in close contact with dad. And every time Glen heard mom was in the hospital, he'd make his way up the first chance he got. Dad and Glen would always try to call me whenever something was up. And each time, I knew it was about mom. I just couldn't face her… not after she practically disowned me for who I was.

But this time was different. I could tell, not just by reading Glen's mind, but I could also hear it in his voice. I also knew his team had a big game against their rival school today, but even that didn't stop Glen from driving up.

"What's happened to mom?" I am prideful too. But unlike mom, I'm at least a little bit human.

"She suffered a massive stroke."

Five years ago, mom was diagnosed with epileptic seizures after finding out she was hypoglycemic. It was a devastating time for her when the Chief of Surgery at UCLA Medical Center approached her about taking an extended leave of absence. After all, mom was interviewed by the board and was elected for the position once the Chief retired at the end of the year. She thought a little time off would help her recuperate and get back in the saddle. But her seizures worsened and she was no longer authorized to hold a scalpel inside the OR ever again. Needless to say, mom hit rock bottom with depression. Dad tried to be supportive any way possible. He agreed to pack the house up and move to Santa Barbara. She wanted to get away from everything that was associated with the hospital and UCLA… including me. Moving away was the one blatant event that culminated the end of our relationship. But I'd say our relationship's been dead since I was a child.

Mom had grown pretty close to Dr. Alan Carmichael, the top neurosurgeon from UCLA. Right around the time mom resigned, Dr. Carmichael took Head of Neurosurgery at Stanford Medical Center. He'd made arrangements to perform several surgeries consisting of extensive lobotomies, as mom requested. He greatly reduced the number of seizures she had, but mom wanted more. She wanted to get rid of the seizures completely so she could come back to being a surgeon. She even elected electroshock therapy and took highly potent medication, sometimes at dangerous dosages. Her seizures reduced to very seldom episodes, but you can tell that she wasn't the same Dr. Carlin she was from the beginning. The battle had worn her out. Her fight to improve her mental capabilities only crippled her health. I'm not sure how severe her stroke was, but it did have me quite concerned.

"How bad is it?"

"Dad wouldn't say," Glen sighed. "But it sounds pretty bad, Spence." I was hesitant to respond. I know me going there would only make things worse. I'd tried visiting her in the past, despite our total lack of a mother-daughter relationship, but she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. Her mind would drown in angry, hateful thoughts. It broke me. Even though our relationship never really existed, she broke me. And I'd be a fool to want to go there again to where I'm completely unwanted and vulnerable. "Look," he noticed my uneasiness, "even Clay is flying into Santa Barbara this afternoon from New York. I talked to him about half an hour ago before he boarded the plane. We're _all _going to be there… as a family. So I'm _not_ leaving here without you."

"I get off at 2. You can wait for me at my apartment." I sighed, knowing I had something to dread for the rest of my shift. "Madison's there. She'll let you in."

"Fine." He reverted back to the scene played out earlier, "you okay? What'd you do? Party hard last night?"

"Yeah," I smirked, "just a little."

"With Melinda?"

"No," I groaned at the sound of her name, "we're not dating anymore."

"Since when?"

"Since a few weeks ago. She cheated on me." He looked at me inquisitively, and before he could ask, I cut him off. "Long story that I don't feel like telling because I've been emotionally exhausted these past few weeks, not to mention this news about mom. I just don't have the energy right now."

"Okay," he put his hand on my shoulder and frowned in pity.

"I gotta get back to work, Glen." I shrugged nonchalantly and smiled slightly to indicate that I'd be fine.

"Alright, Spence," he turned to walk back to his car around the corner. "At two o'clock," he tapped his watch, "call me to let me know you're on your way home. Otherwise I'll come looking for you!"

"Yes, big brother." I responded sarcastically as I took a moment to compose myself. I quickly ran up to the employee cubby and grabbed a stick of Orbit gum – for that good clean feeling, no matter what!

I walked back onto the floor and nearly bumped into Aiden as he turned around from the sink.

"You okay?" He dried his hands. "Feeling better?"

"Mmhmm. _Much_ better. Thanks!" I washed my hands in the sink as Aiden turned towards the next customer in line. "I…" Aiden quickly diverted his attention back to me, "wouldn't go out the backdoor if I were you. And if you do, watch where you step."

"Thanks for the warning." He chuckled, somewhat scrunching his nose in slight disgust.

The second my eyes gazed across the café, I was taken aback at the sight of sheer beauty. I watched her curiously as she sat there at the table across the way, contemplatively reading her book. The morning light shone through the window and rested gracefully against her complexion making her face look almost angelic. Oh that face that is more than just familiar. A face I should know very well… because, according to my friends, that's who _my_ face was getting well acquainted with last night…

Really, though? Did I really—? I need some sense of affirmation from Aiden. But damn! He's helping the last morning rush customer. Why is she here? And why so early? Is she here to see me?

Surprisingly enough, answers to my questions were hard to come by. She's not as easy to read as that book that has willingly opened itself to her. If only it were that easy. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't.

Her thoughts were completely immersed in comparing late twentieth-century neoliberalism to the ideologies of John Locke and classical liberalism. Picture me cross-eyed! It almost made me dizzy just listening. I must intervene somehow to get the answers I want. As I approached her from around the counter, I wiped my hands and patted down my apron.

She continued to lose herself in all these political terms I could not even comprehend until she read the last sentence on that page. She stopped to sip from her green mug of coffee, which was nearly half empty. Hmm… half empty. Am I being a pessimist for viewing her mug as half empty? Is that a metaphor of some sort? Or am I viewing _her_ as half empty?

Sometimes my thoughts choke me the way fog drowns the coast off Santa Monica beach on a crisp morning… because I was looking dumbfounded. She sat there staring me straight in the eyes. If I were saying words right now, I'd be stuttering. But because I wasn't, I resorted to blinking uncontrollably as I wondered how long we'd been holding eye contact.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hi," I responded nervously, feeling my legs take me in a different direction. For once, my subconscious saved me. I noticed an empty mug and trash at the neighboring table and directed my attention to clearing it. Still got nothing out of her, other than her checking me out… again. I felt my cheeks blush a bit. Thoughts about last night? None. Well that's a little discouraging…

"How are you today?"

"I'm… I'm good, thanks. How's… how are you?" See what I mean about the stuttering?

"Good." She turned in her seat to face me. "Listen, Spencer," oh geez, "I hope I didn't come on too strong when I—"

"Too strong?" I giggled. What an understatement! I _knew_ it couldn't have been me. Even if I was _completely _shit-faced, it's so not me to make the first move like that. The first _bold_ move, might I add.

"I just wanna get to know you." What? Your tongue getting acquainted with mine wasn't enough? "Maybe hang out sometime, you know?" I had to admit I was flattered… and a little frightened. Her thoughts told me she'd been coming in here often, usually between classes just to watch me from a distance. Maybe if I wasn't drowned in my own misery, I would've noticed earlier. Has she been stalking me this whole time only to pounce at my most vulnerable moment?

"I think calling would've been a more subtle approach."

"Oh, I agree!" She responded in a somewhat sarcastic tone. "I mean, that's why I did it… so you'd call." She noticed my confused and flabbergasted look.

"Wait. What are we talking about again?" I felt so foolish. It's not often I ask stupid questions. Usually people are so easy to read. Personally, I blame it on the alcohol.

"Giving you my number." Liz chuckled, forgiving me for being so absentminded. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"Oh! I thought we were talking about something else." I sheepishly laughed it off. Well, what about last night then? Was I just… not that memorable? But why would she still want to get to know me if I was a bad kisser? Hmm… maybe she was more wasted than me. Yeah… she forgot about me. I can't blame her though. It's not like _I_ remember sucking face with her.

But I just hate this unsettling feeling of not knowing everything. I'm overly persistent and determined to put all the pieces of last night's puzzle together…

"So…" how can I bring it up without being so obvious? "Last night was fun, huh?"

"Last night?"

"Celebrating the end of midterms?" I hinted. "You know? Hanging out with friends, relaxing…" I cleared my throat. "Partying? Maybe having a drink or two… or three?" Oh yeah… real subtle of me.

"Oh!" And then thoughts of the night came up. Thoughts of _her_ night that were not the least bit familiar to me. "Well, I like winding down in a different way. Some friends and I went to a spoken word night at this hookah lounge downtown. Then we ended the night perfectly with some hot dogs from Pink's. How about you?"

"Uh," I choked. She wasn't even there last night! I was completely speechless. But I tried to recover quickly from that stunned look I seem to find myself in whenever I'm around her. "Just hung out… at the Dubliner." I nodded. "Would you excuse me one sec while I just take this back to the sink?" I put on the most pleasantly fake smile I could muster up.

"Sure." She smiled. I scurried back behind the counter with mug in hand.

"Working on getting another tip, I see." Aiden nudged me with his elbow.

"Why are you and Madison telling stories?" I was so pissed off. They nearly made me look like a dumb ass.

"What are you talking about?" He wiped down the counter with a wet cloth. "What stories?"

"You said I made out with Liz last night."

"Yeah? And?"

"She wasn't even there!"

"Well I don't know, Spence. I wouldn't have known otherwise." He shrugged innocently. "_You_ were the one who told us her name was Liz. Why would I be making shit up?" The sincerity in his voice and his confused thoughts told me he wasn't lying. "Wait. So you mean to tell me—"

"Yes," I stepped closer, noticing his eyes gaze in her direction. "That's Liz over there." Aiden squinted, his thoughts trying to put the name to last night's face.

"That's not her."

"Obviously!" I snarled through my teeth, simultaneously stomping my foot on the ground. His eyes panned back to mine as he noticed my frustrated state. "What'd she look like? Tell me."

"Well…" _"God, she was hot! I'd tap that ass…"_

"Not helping."

"Sorry." He shrugged. "I can't help it if you read my dirty thoughts." Aiden crossed his arms in contemplation. "I'd say she was average height… wavy, medium-length brown hair… red streaked bangs… piercing eyes… "

"Ashley." I concluded. I had a feeling it was her. Being near her was… peaceful. It was the one memorable feeling I had last night. The one feeling that alcohol could not distort. I still don't know why. Why can't I read her? "It was Ashley." Her name slipped across my lips like a poorly kept secret as I leaned against the sink.

"You sure?"

I nodded.

Okay, well… 90% sure.

I looked over Aiden's shoulder and noticed Liz getting up to leave. She has things to do. She keeps herself busy. I know she's not going to wait around for me. She's very independent, which is a plus, considering her stalkerish tendencies. For a second, I shifted in place, unsure as to whether I should at least say 'bye.' But I hunched behind Aiden, concluding that I've already made such a fool of myself… within the past 24 hours. No need to go over there and make matters worse.

I couldn't explain what I was feeling. Ashley's presence alone intrigued me. But to know that she was there, smiling and talking to me at my lowest and most vulnerable point… I was even more curious as to what I might have said or done… or what _she_ said or did for us to share in a lip-lock. Then again, is it possible that I was making a big deal about kissing a complete stranger? Was she more sober than me to think that what happened wasn't even worth thinking about?

I occupied the remainder of my shift with thoughts and speculations of the mysterious brunette. Who is Ashley? And then I realized I didn't know much about her, but I'd make every effort to get to the bottom of this if I ever saw her again.

Time flew by faster than I could ever recall because the next thing I knew, my phone was vibrating in my pocket. I looked at the clock and noticed it was 2:11 PM. Donny was already restocking the floor as Aiden finished his last beverage and prepped to leave. We all tend to work the same days, but rotate on shifts.

I noticed it was Glen calling and immediately answered the phone.

"Yeah?"

"_It's past two, Spence. You coming home or what?"_

"Since when did you become dad?" I sneered. "If I said I'm coming home after work, I'm coming home after work."

"_Alright, Spence! No need to get crazy. I was just checking."_

"I'm just waiting for shift change." And as if she read my mind, Corinne came walking through the door. She had her apron rolled and tucked under her chin as she gathered and tied her hair into a ponytail.

"Sorry!" She mouthed to me as she quickly draped her apron on.

"Okay, Glen. I'm leaving now. See you soon." I quickly hung up the phone and raced upstairs to grab my purse. I had to get back before Aiden got there. Even though things between Madison and my brother are beyond prehistoric times, I know Aiden would get jealous knowing Glen spent the day at our apartment… just him and Madison. Aiden and Madison have this interesting relationship: he's a hound… and well, she's the female version of him. They've both cheated on one another at least once (that I know of), but I think they stay together because they know no one else would ever understand or put up with them.

Fifteen minutes later, I was rounding the corner of our apartment complex. It usually takes me twenty, but I managed to shave a few minutes off during my small jogging spurts. Madison must've said something because I hadn't even set foot on the driveway and Glen was already in his car parked across the street. He flagged me down. I didn't hesitate or even feel like changing out of my work clothes. The great thing about working at a java house is you can never go wrong walking out of there smelling like coffee beans. Besides, a fresh change of clothes wasn't going to make my situation any better or change the fact that I had to go with Glen.

I nearly stumbled off the sidewalk when I stopped dead in my tracks, noticing someone familiar at the corner of my eye. I quickly glanced over and saw Ashley walk across the small residential parking lot to get to the pathway running along the inside of the complex. I jolted in place, my feet unsure as to what my intentions were, because for a second, I considered following her.

"Spence! Come on!" My brother barked with impatience, abruptly making the decision for me. "Let's get on our way before rush hour hits."

I looked back at Ashley and for a moment, we made eye contact. Her brown eyes looked through me with such emptiness. I continued to look at her suspiciously, but she turned away and continued further into the complex. Blood rushed violently to my mildly shaking head as I concentrated really hard on reading her. To Glen, I looked constipated. The way I looked at her made him think I had some personal vendetta against her. But that's just it: all I heard was Glen… and I wasn't even looking at him. I exhaled after momentarily holding my breath, feeling a sense of defeat against that walking fortress. Why can't I read her?

"Any day now." Glen tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as I scampered across the street. I got inside quietly and fastened my seatbelt. "Who was that?"

"Nobody."

"Didn't seem like nobody."

I ignored him.

During the duration of what turned out to nearly be a 3-hour drive, I remained quiet. I listened to Glen jabber on like he hadn't seen me in months… which he hadn't. I only responded with occasional _yeah's_ and _uh-huh's_ to acknowledge that I was listening. He tried to keep me entertained with stories of the girls he's dated and the ups and downs of the various basketball games his team went through. But it wasn't enough to distract me from the looming fact that I had to see mom face-to-face, much less be in the same room as her. I know where I'm not welcomed. So why agitate the situation?

It's like tossing a snowball into hell, I tell ya.

We pull into the vast parking lot surrounding Cottage Hospital. My heart dropped and I dreaded every single second of it. Inside the lobby, we noticed Clay had just arrived at about the same time as us. He was asking the receptionist for mom's room number.

"Clay!" Glen waved him over. He immediately turned to greet us. I'm not one to play favorites, but whenever Clay's around, I feel a little safer. I guess it's because Clay's always given me the benefit of the doubt whenever I felt the world's out to get me. "Did you just get here?"

"Yeah," he let out of our embrace to give Glen a hug, "I told dad to stay put and just took a taxi. I didn't want mom to be alone."

"She's in room 503." Glen led the way to the elevator. He knows the way. He's been here so many times.

We followed him as Clay tried to assess my mood. He knows me all too well. He placed an arm around me and gave me a sympathetic smile. We were totally having an ESP moment.

The cold and elongated elevator made my stomach churn… not the way it did when I drank too much, but the way it does when you're watching a scary movie and know something's going to pop out any second now with that overly suspenseful music. Right about now, I'd give anything to be watching a painfully scary movie instead… like… Texas Chainsaw Massacre… because at least you know the movie would end after two hours and all that blood on Jessica Biel was nothing but corn syrup.

We passed the nurse's station on the fifth floor and took an immediate right into the semi-private room. We found dad watching television and having a one-sided conversation with mom. I tried to slow my pace, but Clay was squeezing me close and nearly dragged me in.

"Dad." Glen patted him on the shoulder. Dad immediately got up and hugged him, but his eyes were fixed on me. I looked at my feet and hunched against Clay, knowing dad was glad to see me, but disappointed that it took me this long to make an effort. "How are you guys?" He attempted to start conversation in order to drive his thoughts elsewhere, knowing he had to be careful around me.

"Good!" Clay hugged him next. Dad reached around and hugged me with his free arm. I saw mom behind Glen. I didn't want to make myself known because she was complacent, just staring at the television. Glen turned and kissed mom on the cheek. Her eyes lit up.

"How was your flight?" Dad had his hands on our shoulders.

"It was smooth. Not too bad."

"I'm so glad you are here..." he looked at me genuinely, "both of you."

"It's good to be here," I mumbled, "though I wish it could've been under better circumstances." Suddenly, I felt the room cold as I noticed mom's head turn slowly in my direction. We all watched her closely, but I was the only one who could see the hurt in her eyes. "How are you?" I spoke up. It didn't seem like she understood what I was saying. Her thoughts were broken and consisted of weird jargon. Her emotions were spot on, but everything else was off. She wasn't herself… and I don't know if she'll ever be.

"She can't speak." Dad's tone was so somber. "Dr. Carmichael was here yesterday. The stroke was so severe that she lost her basic motor functions and speech capabilities. He'll be observing her for the next two weeks and will send her off to the rehab facility once she's in stable condition."

"What's her prognosis?" Glen sat next to her, holding her hand firmly.

"Dr. Carmichael's optimistic. We have to be supportive and positive. It won't be easy for her to relearn all her basic functions, but she can do it." Dad and Clay walked around the other side of her bed. I didn't know what to do or where I should be standing. I felt very grounded and glued against the doorframe. It seemed to be the safest place in that room.

Mom continued to glare at me. Her memory wasn't affected at all. Sure, she couldn't formulate any coherent thoughts or articulate herself. But whatever she was feeling, which was anything but good-willed, she did it intentionally. She was making it known that she didn't want me there… that she despised me and would scream at me to get out if she could.

"Spence," dad motioned for me to come closer. I hesitantly obeyed as my discomfort grew. She felt it too because her heart rate monitor started to beep a smidge faster. At that moment, I hated everything. I hated hospitals and their tiny rooms. I hated how Glen dragged me here. I hated how mom never even tried to understand or accept me. I stood over her… and I hated how she looked at me. The same look she gave me my whole life.

Glen took my hand… and I hated him even more now. He tried to be a peacemaker and join my hand with mom's. She made every effort to draw her hand back. I could tell with how she squinted her eyes. But because of the stroke, she barely had the energy. I held on, hoping she'd come to her senses. She started to roll her head and grunt at me like an irritable child. I know she was trying to say something, but it all came out very inaudible. She threw her head towards dad, looking for someone to save her from my grasp.

"Paula," dad tried to calm her, "it's okay. It's just Spencer." Naïve of dad to think it was because she didn't recognize me. She started screeching, unable to make her tongue form words. I'd never seen mom act so… savage-like. I immediately let go and walked out of the room, nearly crashing into a nurse who'd noticed a spike in mom's heart rate.

I walked towards the waiting area on that floor, peering out the window at the view of the lot below. Tears began to stream down my face. Oh goodness! Just when I thought I had nothing left in my weary tear ducts…

I heard Clay come from behind me. I turned and he immediately hugged me. He'd thought of a million things to say but…

"I'm sorry, Spence," he exhaled.

"Don't be." I let my tears glide down my cheeks and absorb into the collar of his shirt. "It's not _your_ fault."

"I wish there was something I could say right now that wouldn't sound so cliché," he whispered genuinely.

"That's okay." I hugged him tighter.

Clay has always treated me like a grown woman with a mind of her own: he knows not to be overprotective, and he knows not to baby me. I don't know how he figures, but he's always confident I'll find my way out the better end of any sticky situation. That's one of the things I love about him.

The three things I love about Clay: his unconditional love, his optimistic attitude, and the way he hugs me just to show he understands. He's always been the glue of this family.

"Hey," Glen placed his hand on my shoulder, and I felt my anger swiftly take over.

"What?" I immediately shuddered. "Glen, what? What do you want?!" I wiped the remainder of my tears across the backs of my hands. Even I was surprised at my sudden outburst.

"Mom's not herself. She didn't mean—"

"Glen, give her a minute, will you?" Clay calmly interrupted.

"Stop making excuses for her!" I crossed my arms. "I told you I didn't want to come. She _hates_ me! Everyone knows this. Why can't you understand that?"

"She doesn't hate you. Can you just try to—"

"Take me home!" I shook my head, refusing to hear anything else Glen had to say… or think. I walked towards the elevator. "I'll wait downstairs." He understood. For once, he knew he wasn't right. As much as his intentions were honorable, he finally accepted the fact that our issues were irreconcilable.

Glen said his goodbyes and met me in the downstairs lobby ten minutes later, with Clay to see us off. We didn't say a word to one another as we walked to the car, but I knew he felt remorseful. He, too, hated how things were.

"I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay." I hugged Clay one more time. "It was good seeing you." I smiled at him before getting into the car.

The engine hummed with a turn of the key. Glen sighed, and I knew he couldn't leave it alone…

"I'm sor—"

"Don't." I turned to him. "Please, just… take me home."

The drive down was a silent one, aside from the music playing softly from the radio. It started getting dark out rather quickly. I stared out the passenger window and forced myself to sleep, since this would be the only escape from Glen's suffocating thoughts.

I just need some peace… even if it's temporary.


	4. Chapter 4: Echoes of Silence

**_Yes! I finished in less than a month, considering this is 2 chapters worth of reading material. It's loooong. And yes... I'm still alive (thanks for checking, lone_fenix xP). THANKS FOR READING/REVIEWING YOU GUYS!! I SMILE AT EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!! Here's a quickie: LOL at the choco ex-lax comment, lalalalee :D I miss you too, xpressyourself! Bout time you showed yourself! Mayagray, thanks so much for the reassuring words! 01shane01, let me know what you think about THIS airheadedness hahaha.._**

**_*Okay, if you wanna know why I was lagging, blame my beta (River.R) because she threw me a rather addicting fic called "Marshall Daniel's Boarding School for Girls" by stix04 which is on the official SoN fanfic website LOL! Hands down, the most mind-blowing and addicting fic I've ever read! I'm guilty for reading more than I should've been writing. BUT, THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, RIVER :D_**

**_Enjoy the IDIOCY of chapter 4 (There! I said it! lol :P) 6.7.09_**

**_**Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters. I don't own "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel. I do own "Silent Crime." Also, please be forewarned that this chapter contains crude, opinionated language about religion. It is not intended to offend anyone, and the views/opinions of the characters do not necessarily reflect my own._**

* * *

I took a deep breath, snuggling against my cushioned seat. I pulled the small slab of wood up from beneath my right arm rest and placed my notebook on top. Black G-2 Pilot pen in hand. My favorite type of pen.

I flipped to a blank page and put my cell on silent, noting the time.

7:57 AM.

Students continued to filter into the lecture hall… chattering, rummaging through their backpacks, setting up their laptops, _thinking_. Funny how the general consensus of conversations and thoughts revolved around how ridiculously early this class is. No one likes an 8 AM class. We all swear we were morning people when we had to get up at 6 AM for high school. But once you're in college, your day doesn't start until 11 AM… when you wake up.

And there were only two reasons I could think of on why we're all here at this ungodly hour on a Monday… on _every _Monday and Wednesday for ten consecutive weeks… same time, same hall: we either really like _Personality Theory_… or we had poor registration dates, and all the better and/or more interesting classes were filled by the time our registration windows opened, but we still needed the units. Desperation always follows the latter. And I would say the majority of us (if not all of us) were pretty desperate for units.

The noise tapered off a bit as Dr. Steinhaus greeted us a good Monday morning. Nothing good about it. I kept tossing and turning every hour last night, causing me to wake up feeling overly exhausted and grumpy. And to top it off, I didn't get my caffeine fix yet. I usually wake early enough to start the coffeemaker. And stopping by the café would've been a bad idea. I'm so grateful I don't work Monday mornings with that crazy hustle-and-bustle crowd demanding their caffeine elixirs.

"Let's go over the midterm stats, shall we?" He put up the bar graph slide on the projector. "Out of a possible 70 questions, the mean score was 53. The highest score was 67, the lowest 30." I scored a 60 on the midterm, which gave me a decent B. What a relief, too! I'm glad I managed to absorb some information during that overly dramatic, soap opera week I had! Not to mention, he tested us on personality structure theory, the scientific model, and… Freud.

I _hate_ Freud.

He waddled across the stage very much like a pregnant woman would in her third trimester… with one hand on the belly. He started to feel the agony of Monday morning with the beginnings of an ulcer. He reached for his hanky… the same one he uses to wipe his glasses. Except he used it to pat his damp forehead.

"The TA's will go over the test in discussion this week. They'll also provide you with the answer keys. So I suggest you keep them, because a lot of these questions will show up again on the final… in some form or another." Dr. Steinhaus smiled in amusement. It's as if he enjoys torturing his students with tricky, ambiguous questions. But it's just the ulcer talking.

I can tell it's difficult for him to concentrate with that thing flaming up like a raging monster. He reached for his coffee mug. Tsk tsk, Dr. Steinhaus. He should hand the caffeine over to me, rather than feed the fire in his belly!

I slouched in my seat and leaned my head against the back of the chair, knowing it was going to be a long hour and twenty minutes. My eyes aimlessly wandered around the hall to the different computer screens up. Some people actually _do _take notes… while a good handful play Mindsweeper, view their Facebook and Myspace pages, chat on AIM, or play MMORPG's… like this guy two rows ahead of me. He was joining a raid in Stormwind with his level 62 mage. His mind was getting all into his gamer nerd lingo… thinking about replenishing mana, upping his talents, and switching his specs from Arcane/Frost to Arcane/Fire… while wishing he was at home so he could chat with his raiding party on team speak.

I rolled my eyes.

It's stupid that these people come to class at the butt crack of dawn, just to web browse or… raid virtual cities. So pointless! They might as well do that at home. But I know they do it so they don't have to feel bad about wasting their financial aid by ditching class entirely.

I tried concentrating on what the professor was saying. But it was difficult to not get sidetracked by these internet junkies and a few stragglers who were walking into class several minutes late.

"Excuse me," a girl whispered as she shimmied her way down my row, carefully stepping over my extended limbs. She plopped into the seat next to me, trying her best to quietly grab her notebook out of her gray messenger bag.

I didn't have to look to recognize who it was. I sat still and smirked slightly, seeing her sit there so smug from the corner of my eye.

"So what'd I miss?" She whispered. I could smell her vanilla scent… and the Americano off her breath, and in that moment, I kinda hated her.

"Midterm results." I mumbled back. "How's your coffee?" I enviously looked at the cup in her hand. The cup from our café.

"Oh," she placed the cup on my notebook, "this one's actually for you. I didn't know what you might like so I figured you can't go wrong with a mocha latte." My eyes lit up and my mood immediately changed.

"Thanks so much, Liz." I gratefully grabbed the cup and smiled at her. "You read my mind."

"Well, duh," she nudged me, "who's ever awake for an 8 AM class anyway…except for _that_ guy?" She subtly pointed. "Wait… is he playing WoW?" We snickered to ourselves as he frantically tapped several buttons on the keyboard and mouse pad.

Dr. Steinhaus glared at us and cleared his throat.

"You... are… a lifesaver." I carefully sipped from the cup and immediately felt as if my life was being replenished with steamy, sugary goodness. Oh sweet Jesus! The hustle-and-bustle crew knows how to make the _best_ mocha latte… hands down. No wonder they have the reputation for being the best shift.

"I know how you can repay me."

"Oh? You mean this latte's going to cost me?" I teased. "You didn't do this out of your own generosity?"

"Oh, I did!" The corner of her lips lifted. "The latte was also an excuse to come over here and talk to you… seeing as how giving you my number was too aggressive of me." I blushed. "I don't know what came over me. I usually don't do things like that."

"It wasn't too aggressive at all." I subconsciously placed my hand on her arm. Why do people tend to do that? Is it some type of sympathetic reaction? I didn't even know I did it 'til she thought about it. Good to know _she_ didn't think I was being too aggressive. "I meant to call, really I did. But it's been a pretty hectic couple of weeks for me."

"Understandable." Liz leaned into my touch. I knew she was enjoying this.

"So, I'm afraid to ask…" I muttered from behind my cup, "how should I repay you?"

"Got any plans tonight?" She breathed out, keeping her eyes glued on Dr. Steinhaus. Liz did what was easiest for her, which was not looking into my eyes when she asked such a direct question. She brushed her jet black, side-swiped bangs aside and awaited my answer, knowing all too well that I haven't really reciprocated to her in our previous (and only two) encounters.

I sat pondering for a second, thinking how incredibly brave she'd been just to have these brief, awkward moments of exchange. I felt bad that I haven't given her much to go off of. But why not? Why not take a chance on getting to know someone like Liz?

"None." I smiled in her direction, "what'd you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about poetry and spoken word?" She asked confidently.

"I've always wanted to go to a poetry night somewhere, but never had the chance to."

"The Poetry Lounge out in Hollywood has open mic night tonight at 7. I've been trying to work on my own stuff, but I'm just going to read off a poem written by Jeffrey McDaniel. Just trying to get used to standing in front of a crowd until I'm ready to read my own work." I could tell it was something that she was so passionate about. "Wanna come? I could use the moral support."

"I'd love to." I nodded.

"Great!" She grinned in such relief.

"For those of you so eager to have a conversation more interesting than the topics at hand," Dr. Steinhaus interrupted his own lecture, "please feel free to continue it outside and stop distracting those who actually want to be here." He gawked at us with his hands on his hips, which caused others to look in our direction.

Liz sunk in her chair as I glared back at the professor, refocusing my attention on his lecture. He resumed from where he left off, and we remained quiet for the remainder of the class. I couldn't help but blush at the certain things she was thinking…

"_She's coming… to open mic. Shit. What now? I didn't expect she'd say 'yes'. But it's GREAT she said 'yes'! Play it cool. No expectations. What do I wear tonight? I hope Anthony doesn't embarrass me. I'll kill him if he does. What time should I pick her up? Is that too forward? Maybe we should meet somewhere first. Should I ask her to dinner first? Where should we eat? Or am I asking for too much?"_

I leaned to the right so that our shoulders would touch. Maybe it would help instill some confidence and calm her nerves a little?

Liz sighed. _"It's so nice to be this close to her. She smells so nice… and she looks amazing."_

I coughed a few times. Amazing? The only thing amazing about how I look is that I even look remotely alive on a Monday morning. I feel so gross right now. I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair up into a loose ponytail, and threw on my old King High hoodie. I'm glad the Febreeze scent hid the fact that I didn't even shower.

"You okay?" She mouthed.

I nodded, patting my chest and holding up the cup to suggest my beverage went down the wrong tube… because it kinda did. Her thoughts caught me in mid-sip.

After class ended, I packed up my belongings and thanked her again for the coffee. Sadly, I had to keep our conversation short because I had ten minutes to get across campus to my next class at 9:30.

"So… tonight?"

"Definitely." I flung my backpack over my shoulders, already excited to do something tonight, other than homework and listening to Aiden play Xbox. "I'll call you?"

"Uh, yeah!" Liz tried to force a smile since she was a bit uneasy about the idea, seeing as how she was convinced I had already lost her number.

"I promise! But just to be sure," I quickly ripped a blank page from my notebook and scribbled my number down, "here's _my_ number. Now we've both been equally aggressive." She giggled and gratefully took the folded piece of paper. "I've gotta run though. My next class is in Kerkhoff Hall."

"What are you still doing here talking to me, then? Get outta here!"

"Alright," I quickly scampered up the steps to the exit, "talk to you later!"

I walked hurriedly from the far west part of campus, zigzagging my way between lines and herds of people on the walkways and through the park. The weather was brisk and gloomy out, but my fast pace started building up a sweat for me. I cut through Spalding Field and headed straight for Portola Plaza, which sat adjacent to Kerkhoff Hall. I snuck in as quietly as possible, given that I was still catching my breath.

Professor Weihmeier was already five minutes into his lecture, introducing the topic of free will and altruism when it comes to Daniel Dennett's work, when I scanned the stadium-seating lecture hall for an empty seat. His _Philosophy of Freedom_ class has always been a popular one. It's always the first class to fill up during the first week of open registration. But from what Madison told me, half his students end up loving him and eating up everything he says, like crack cocaine to an addict. I've even heard some changed religions or even became atheists because of this man. The other half of his students end up despising him for everything that he stands for. I guess his classes aren't for the easily offended or the weak-hearted.

A few stragglers walked down the steps and took the remaining seats towards the middle of the hall when I spotted one last seat towards the back on the far right side. As I walked across the back of the hall, I noticed a certain brunette sitting to the left of my seat. Five weeks in… and I didn't even know she was in the same class.

Of all days to throw me an awkward moment….

I tried my best to shrug it off, as I took a seat and drew the correct notebook from my bag. I could tell Ashley immediately took notice. She leaned to the farthest part of her seat, pushing her neighbor's arm off the arm rest. He gave her a weird look… and so did I. She looked blatantly uncomfortable and I couldn't tell why. I know we made out and all… and, according to my friends, we were having a good time. But we managed to have a civilized conversation the first time we met. So… was it really that unbearable to be near me?

Maybe she was also embarrassed about that night. There was nothing certain about this girl. There was nothing clear. Nothing I could read. She didn't even have a pen or notebook or anything on her… except the purse under her seat. Ashley just sat there with her arms crossed as she continued to listen to Professor Weihmeier.

Strange girl.

I decided to ignore her, feeling slightly offended that she didn't even acknowledge me the way human beings do… you know? Like a 'hello' or a smile… or something. As Dr. Evil would say, "throw me a freakin' bone!"

"Let's go back to what Dennett discussed in chapter one about taking responsibility for decisions that were not really 'free' to begin with." Professor Weihmeier paced across the front of the hall. "In other words… If we truly have free will, what compels us to accept responsibility for decisions that are not ours, when we obviously had no control or free will to manipulate these decisions in the first place? For example, why do we blame ourselves for the inevitable, for things out of our control?" He rolled his blue sleeves, looking across the room for volunteers. "Anyone care to take a wild guess?" Uh oh… "How about you… in the green?" Professor Weihmeier pointed in my direction. I knew he meant me, but I looked around hoping I was wrong. "Yeah you." He smiled, finding amusement in torturing those who walked in late.

"Uh," I took a second to think about the material and formulate an answer from my own logic. After all, this topic hits quite close to home. "Perhaps we blame ourselves for a situation we have no control over because there is no concrete answer that we can readily comprehend?"

"Interesting theory!" He grabbed his chin in contemplation after pushing up the bridge of his glasses. "What's your name?"

"Spencer." Gosh, it was so nerve-wrecking to be called out in front of hundreds of students, all whose thoughts ranged from… _"I really don't wanna be here." "I'd hate to be THAT girl." "What is she wearing?!" "Wow, she's kinda cute!" "Did I forget to unplug my curling iron?" "What a suck up!" "Professor Weihmeier's such a DILF! I'd do him." "I can't believe my roommate ate my chips! I'm going to kill him!" _…And so on and so forth. Times like this when I wish I could scream 'SHUT THE FUCK UP!' …But they have special places for people who randomly scream obscenities in a "quiet" lecture hall.

"Care to elaborate, Spencer?" He paced again, taking slower steps across the platform.

"Well," I tried to stray away from sounding so morbid, "for example, death."

"Hmm, what about it?" He continued to pace, looking at his loafers in contemplation as if he was trying to connect the dots in his head.

"There's no answer to why people actually… die." I swear it made much more sense in my head.

"Sure there is!" He cocked his head towards me, making me feel so… small and stupid. "It's biological. Our bodies age, grow weary, and eventually some vital organ is no longer capable of carrying out its basic function. Thus, we die. We evolve. We change."

"Professor, if I can interject...." She spoke.

"Ah, Miss Davies," he took his glasses off and squinted at her, "what a pleasant surprise." You didn't have to be a genius to figure out he was bitterly sarcastic. But I could tell there was some feuding history between the two that just continued to brew. Professor Weihmeier placed his hands on his hips. "Didn't you already take this class?"

"You must be mistaking me for someone else, sir." Ashley sat up with confidence. "Or perhaps you're referring to your _Moral and Ethics_ class from last spring, which I thoroughly enjoyed by the way." She smirked, but I couldn't tell if she was returning the sarcasm. I looked at Professor Weihmeier, and if this was a cartoon, we'd all be seeing steam spewing from his ears right about now. His thoughts flashed back to the numerous occasions Ashley would argue against his statements, the ways she stood up for her own formulated beliefs, the confidence she exuded while implying that she was far more knowledgeable than a man of his stature, and the countless times he'd asked her to leave his classes.

"Very well." He glared at her sardonically. "Feel free to grace us with your… _opinion_." He stressed that word, refusing to ask her to share her knowledge because he refuses to believe she has any.

"Thank you." Ashley nodded. "What Spencer here is trying to explain is… we feel compelled to blame ourselves because we are frustrated in not knowing the answer to something as inevitable as death."

"Hmm…" The professor was searching for words to combat her argument, but she continued…

"And if you want to direct free will towards something as 'concrete' as biological and scientific theory, then I would pick Newton over Darwin: 'to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.'"

"I don't mean to insult your intelligence—"

"I'm sure you don't."

"But your use of Newton's third law only substantiates my rebuttal against Spencer's theory about death."

"On the contrary, sir," wow, this just became a spectator sport, "I think her observations are brilliant. She has stepped outside the limitations of what's _obvious_ to you people." I have? "Spencer is referring to death as the 'action,' not the 'reaction.'" I am? "To say death is the 'cause,' it is unbeknownst to us what the 'effect' is or will be." She paused to let the rest of us soak in that information. "The effect of something as certain as death, of which we have no control of, is what perplexes us into frustration. And _that_ is why we take responsibility for our 'reactions' to things… even when the decisions of our 'actions' were never free to begin with."

"Well spoken… for an opinion." He put his glasses on and proceeded to walk across the stage. I could tell he completely disagreed with her, but chose to be the bigger person and walk away from any havoc he desired to toss her way. "And what about fate?" The professor was now asking the general audience. "Can fate and free will coexist? If our very thoughts, actions, and _'reactions,'_" he pointed in Ashley's direction as he surveyed his students, "are predetermined, do we have free will?" An eager student sitting on the other side of the hall raised her hand. "'Yes?"

"I think we were placed on this earth by some higher power, like God, to do his bidding and to live happy, peaceful lives. I believe he also challenges us and molds us into who we are supposed to become. So, in a sense, fate exists. But he also gives us free will… within the boundaries of his laws, such as the Ten Commandments… to help mold us into who we choose to become."

"What about criminals?" Professor Weihmeier liked trapping his students in their own words. I suppose it's his way of feeling superior to us all. If Freud were alive, he'd say Weihmeier acts like a dominant asshole to compensate for his… shortcomings. "Did God put them on this earth only for them to fail?" He asked so condescendingly.

"Those people are just faithless. They don't open themselves up to God. So it's their fate to go to hell when they die." She said in absolute.

"Pffffft," Ashley scoffed.

"Miss Davies," he jeered, "a penny for your thoughts?"

"I'll give you twenty dollars worth of my thoughts, Dan. She's completely contradicting herself!" I'm getting why he'd felt disrespected before. "Faith, religion, belief in a higher being," she stood up. Is she usually this dramatic? "…is all bullshit." Whoa! Okay, she just offended most of us.

"Miss Davies—"

"People believe in higher powers to disassociate themselves from having to take any actual responsibility for the choices they make and the people they become. When people actually do well for themselves, they praise themselves for accomplishments. But when shit hits the fan…"

"Miss Davies, I already warned you about the cussing."

"…when things don't go according to how _we_ want them to, we blame it on that higher power. It's kinda like a double standard against your god. Pretty damn selfish, if you ask me." And this debate just became psychologically theological... if that makes any sense.

"Professor," I raised my hand. He acknowledged me as Ashley sat down. "I have my faith. I do believe in God and the fact that we all have some type of purpose in life, but she's right: people tend to put the blame on him, rather than owning up and dealing with the ramifications of their actions. Bottom line is we have free will. Whether things are predetermined or not, no one knows. But right now, in this moment, we have free will."

That's it! That's all it took to leave the professor stumped! We made some valid points, all of which he couldn't really argue. It's interesting that someone I barely know but _kinda_ do (in a superficial, lustful kinda way) and I teamed up against Weihmeier… and won! That is, until…

"So stick _that_ in your pipe and smoke it!" Some gasped, including myself. But most bursted into laughter. Why? Why couldn't she just quit while we were ahead?

"Davies, out!" He repeatedly motioned to the door. "GET OUT OF MY CLASS!"

"Where's your sense of humor?" She stood with a big grin on her face.

"Get out!"

"Same Dan, different day." She huffed, grabbing her belongings and carefully stepping in front of me to leave the hall. Students still roared in laughter, applauding and condoning her rebellious behavior. "I'm here all week, people." The thin heals of her stilettos struck the concrete steps as she made her fashionably early exit.

I don't know what made me do it. I couldn't even comprehend what just took place here. So I don't know how I got my limbs to function. But the next thing I knew, I was tiptoeing my way up the steps in my pursuit.

I walked out and noticed her drop her purse at a nearby table before fishing out her cigarettes. She sat up on the tabletop with her feet on the bench as she fumbled with her lighter. My feet pulled me in her direction.

"Hey." I mumbled, not sure what the hell I was doing ditching the rest of lecture to talk to her. She looked at me incredulously.

"Can... I help you?" Ashley grumbled, continuing to shake and flick the lighter with what little fuel there was left in it. She's so… quiet. It's frustrating, damn it!

"Why can't I read—" …Shit! I stopped myself, trying desperately to recover from my stupidity.

"Why can't you _read_?" Oh god! Think of something fast! "Beats me! How the hell did you get into college then?"

"I mean…" Words! Where are my words today?! "Why can't I read… Dennett's book the way _you_ do?" Lame. Ugh… that'll have to suffice.

"You seem to have your bases covered." She finally got her lighter to work. I watched carefully as the white paper burned and the tobacco fumed. "You were able to withstand Weihmeier's abusive arguments."

"Me? I barely said anything." I giggled. "I think you spoke for the both of us in there." I felt kinda stupid because I was laughing and she barely blinked. She just sat there calmly smoking her cigarette and watching people pass by. I immediately stopped. "Well, thanks… for that." Awkward!

"Dan's an asshole. He had it coming."

"Does he kick you out during every class?"

"Pretty much. I can't remember the last time I actually sat through his entire lecture." She flicked the ashes off. "I have something to say for every word he speaks. I like giving that man grief. He thinks he knows everything. I'm not saying _I_ do, but I've learned things from different people in different places to know he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Like what places?"

"Tibet, for one." She took another drag from the cigarette in her hand. "Lived there for a couple of years. The Dalai Lama has more wisdom than that man's tiny little brain can muster up." So she lived in Tuscany _and_ Tibet?

"Impressive!" I spoke my thoughts. "Do you know the Dalai Lama personally?"

"Yeah." She shrugged as if it were no big deal. Then her piercing eyes looked up at me. "Listen, I don't mean to be so… blunt, but are you sick or something?"

"WHAT?!" I half barked, half scoffed. I've officially relinquished my crown as the Queen of Awkwardness/Randomness. "What do you mean?!"

"Well, I can't really remember the last time I was sick. I mean, I can pretty much say I've never been sick before. But when I met you at the coffee shop, I started coughing after I left." Ashley brushed her red bangs aside, showing her rather confused expression. "Maybe it was the hodge-podge of a latte you made me? I don't know."

"I think that's the funniest thing I've heard all week," I belched in laughter. "What makes you think _I_ got you sick?"

"The Dubliner?" Oh… we are now treading on an uncertain topic.

"What about it?" I could feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I felt so vulnerable. Of course I wanted to find out what she thought of that night… but perhaps in a subtle manner. Oh please be subtle. Please be subtle!

"You had your tongue down my throat." My face slumped. Okay… not as subtle as I was begging for. And still no expression on her face. What's wrong with this girl?!

"I think there was equal tongue-age of sorts… and it wasn't just _my_ tongue doing the… tonguing!" I think when I'm done here, I'm going to consult the dictionary to expand my vocabulary.

"That's not the point." She began to play with the cuff of her skinny jeans before taking one last drag and flicking the cigarette away. "After I left, I came down with the fever!"

"Oh god! I hope you don't get _me_ sick!" I took a few steps back. "I still don't see the correlation between our… touching and you getting sick. It's probably just a coincidence because I feel fine!"

"You're… different." Ashley stared at the remains of her cigarette, the smoke still dissipating from the shortened end. I'm not sure if she meant that in a good way or a bad way. "I've kissed a ton of people," bragging much? "…but no one's ever made me feel… sick like that." Okay, I guess she meant it in a bad way.

"Grrrrreat pep talk, Ash." I nodded with what dignity I had left. "I get the hint. So… I'm gonna… go now. Nice… knowing you." Whatever. That was the dumbest shit I've ever been blamed for. I'm partly bitter that she bruised my ego, but kinda laughing at the same time at how ridiculous that was. Dumbest shit, I tell you.

I managed to make it to all my other classes without interruptions. When I got home in the afternoon, I did a little homework to pass the time until Liz called and I got ready. I really wish Madison was around to critique my choice in clothing for tonight. But the only time I really see her is on the weekends. She works the weekdays at MAC and goes to class at night. By the time she gets home, I've already crashed. And sometimes she stays at Aiden's. So I had the place to myself.

I rummaged through Madison's closet and decided to borrow her black leggings to pair with my teal tunic. But in order to keep it from looking like I tried too hard, I wore flats. After all, I don't even know if Liz considers it a date… or just an opportunity to hang out. Regardless, I was in desperate need of a pick-me-upper and, at this point, I'd take what I can get.

I quickly brushed on my earthy-toned make-up when the doorbell rang simultaneously. The great thing about having a roommate who works at MAC is all the free samples and discounted make-up she gives me. I opened the door and immediately raised a brow to a decked out Liz.

"Hey!" She smiled, her eyes quickly looking me up and down. _"You look sooo gorgeous!"_

"Hey," I blushed as my smile spread across my face. Her smoldering eyes, boldly outlined in eyeliner, glistened from behind her side-swept bangs. I, too, looked her up and down, taking in every little detail. Her dark, skinny jeans were neatly tucked into her black boots.

"How was the rest of your day?" She gave her black peacoat a tug and I noticed a simple, silver star necklace resting neatly over a plain white v-neck shirt.

"It was good!" I nodded, trying to act as normal as possible despite being distracted with her hotness. "How was yours?"

"It was alright. But I'm pretty sure this'll be the highlight of my day." Oh _really_?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, _(because I'll be spending it with you)_ the theme is_ Echoes of Silence_. So people will be reading their most passionate, profound poetry or spoken word, and some people play music and what not… all encompassing the theme of the night in some way."

"Sounds exciting!" I leaned against the doorframe.

"Ready to go?" She placed her hands in her pockets and bobbed her head towards the direction of her car.

"Yeah." I grabbed my clutch and locked the door before following her out. This was so a date!

It was a pleasant ride to The Poetry Lounge. We chatted for a bit, mostly about the basic info. Liz has two sisters, one younger and one older. Her parents separated when she was five. She and her sisters grew up with their mom. Their dad would occasionally meet with them, but his love was mostly expressed through small amounts of child support. She told me how she never thought she'd go to college, must less a place like UCLA, because she grew up with nothing. Her mom would work two jobs just to put food on the table. So of course, education was not the main priority. But once her older sister finished high school, she picked up extra jobs to put Liz through college. That's when she decided to major in political science and do something fulfilling like giving back to the people.

Once we pulled into a small back lot, we were just about done skimming through songs on her iPod and talking about how we both love Muse and The Fray. She suggested going to a concert sometime, and I could tell she's definitely someone I can get along with.

We walked into this dimly-lit corridor which displayed various autographed pictures and memorabilia ranging from Beau Sia, Saul Williams, Douglas A. Martin, and the founder of slam poetry, Marc Smith. The actual lounge looked like it was a café in the mornings, a restaurant on some days, and a dance club on other nights. It was a very open, yet comfy atmosphere. Dark curtains surrounding the windowless bottom floor were illuminated with blue and black lighting, gracing parts of the brick walls. The moonlight subtly hinted through the windows on the second floor balcony, and the only thing that was bright was the spotlight on stage where various instruments and microphones were set up. It definitely set the mood.

Liz pulled a chair for me before taking off her coat and placing it on the neighboring chair. I could tell she was nervous, both for being on a date and for having to be on stage later. But she tried her best to show me a good time.

"Can I get you something to drink?" She calmly spoke into my ear just to get a whiff of my hair. _"Mmmm…"_

"Vodka cran?"

"Hey Liz!" She turned her attention to a tall, lanky guy with ruffled brown hair and thick-framed glasses. His perfectly white teeth shone from underneath his clean-cut beard. "How are you?" Liz smiled at the familiar man and greeted him with a hug.

"Anthony!" Ah, so _this_ is Anthony. He had that sociopolitical rebelliousness about him, not just by his thoughts, but also by the Che silhouette on his green shirt and makeshift patches sewn into his olive green jacket stating 'Marxist Bolshevik' and 'In Hegel We Trust.' "I want you to meet someone." She turned towards me. "This is Spencer." Liz introduced me in a way that unknowingly implied that she'd spoken to him about me before. The way they act with one another spells 'best friends.' We shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." I nodded with a simple smile. "You a big fan of spoken word too?"

"I'm a spoken word virgin." I lightened the mood, which effectively made them laugh. "But I think it'll be a profound and enjoyable experience."

"Oh, you're in for a treat tonight! Both Liz and I will be performing." He patted her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, after I have a few drinks just to calm my nerves." I could practically hear her knees knocking together.

"You'll do fine." I reassured her, briefly squeezing her hand resting on the back of her chair. The touch had successfully distracted her from stage fright as she stared deep into my eyes. "Just pretend you're the only one in the room."

"_What if I pretended _you_ were the only one in the room?"_

"You could do that, too." Oops.

"Do what?" She raised a brow.

"Umm…"

"Hey stranger!" Thank god! This blonde, curly-haired man with an average frame wrapped his arm around Liz's shoulders, beer bottle in the other hand.

"Hey Sebastian!" She quickly hugged him before turning to the petite, long dark-haired, brown-skinned girl behind him. "Kader! Oh my gosh! It's been too long you guys." They all smiled and greeted one another. "Welcome back to the scene!"

From reading thoughts, it's apparent that Sebastian and Kader are a couple. They share the same passion for political and poetic literature. Probably not as strong as Anthony's. They'd never be the forefront of a rally or political movement. But they seem to come and go, just to enjoy a few works from time to time.

"Anthony said you were performing." Kader grinned.

"Are we going to hear your new masterpiece?" Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows. He was referring to some poem she'd been working on. Something… passionate and… lovey dovey.

"N-no." Liz interrupted him before he could speak again. "I'm reading Jeffrey McDaniel tonight. Still working on the other stuff." She tried desperately to think of a way to change the subject. Why's she nervous? It's not like I know what they're talking about… as far as she knows.

"Hi!" My eyes panned to Kader who waved at me from where she was standing.

"Oh, Kader, Sebastian," Liz pointed, "this is Spencer." _"Ugh! I'm such an idiot."_

"Spencer." Sebastian repeated in order to commit my name to memory.

"Nice to meet you!" They both shook my hand and we shared friendly glances for a split second.

"I'm… gonna go to the bar… to grab a few drinks."

"Okay," Sebastian nodded, "we'll be on the balcony enjoying the night from there."

"Nice meeting you, Spencer." I waved, barely hearing Kader's soft voice. And they went their separate ways. I fiddled with my hands, pretending to occupy myself in thought as I waited patiently for Liz. I'm sure she was pounding down shots, the way her nerves were going haywire.

"Vodka cran for the pretty lady." Liz set the drink in front of me, holding a vodka tonic in her other hand. _"Ah, much better! Hehehehe…"_ Hmm… guess she was starting to feel the shots she took with Anthony.

"Thanks." I stirred the straw and took a small sip. Stiff drinks here!

"Those are my friends who used to come here all the time. They haven't been around much though." Liz sipped her drink. "But I'm glad they came." I tried to show enthusiasm for something I had already known.

For the most part, my date with Liz was going very well. She was acting and feeling completely normal… or as normal as you would feel taking someone out on a date. In the past, reading people's minds has proved to be a lifesaver, saving me countless hours of drama, heartache, lies, deceit, and feelings of betrayal and sheer stupidity. I've had my fair share of creepy, conniving, and tumultuous dates… ranging from guys and girls who just wanted to get in my pants, girls who just wanted to experiment with me and never felt it was necessary to disclose that they were already in a hetero relationship, sexist men, gay men who were too scared to come out of the closet and wanted to use me as proof of being straight, ex-cons, guys and girls with extremely weird fetishes, people who fantasized about bondage and black leather of all types… and the list goes on and on.

With Liz, her intentions seemed pretty genuine. Yet, I still had my guard up. I've learned from my mistakes. Melinda seemed the same way when we started dating, but she turned out to be a treacherous bitch. Wish I could see the future instead.

Once the lounge had filled to capacity, which was a matter of minutes from when we arrived, Anthony stepped onto the small stage and began the night. He didn't introduce himself. He just went right into it.

"They say that truth hurts,  
But they don't tell you what it means.  
To them, it means keep being naïve and don't let reality intervene,  
But let ignorance wipe you clean.  
And then they say to be unique,  
Yet they strip you of a voice and don't let you speak.  
Just another body without an identity.  
They cracked you open and made you so weak.  
After that, they whisper in your ear to believe in yourself,  
But what they're really telling you is you're all alone.  
They'll judge you and label you as a stereotype of your own.  
You're your own shelter; they say you have no home.  
Lies, lies! Society spells lies  
That create false hope to your own demise.  
You trip, you fall, you bleed, you cry  
Over society's lies, so elusive, so fruitless, so dry.  
Media, media out to blind,  
Blind you from a million crimes  
That happened a million times.  
It's a monster let loose; it can't be confined.  
But I'm not talking about the crimes on the tele,  
On the radio, online.  
Not about the drugs, the blood, the violence.  
Few figure out that the biggest crime  
Is ignorance and silence.  
People know, but they don't tell, they don't show.  
They don't share the power of knowledge, don't let humanity grow.  
Why? Because society suppresses with fear, keeps you near,  
Tells you lies that seem sincere.  
Whatever it takes to keep you quiet and keep you dumb,  
Keep you numb.  
Turn a blind eye to the silent crime  
Or speak and become someone.  
So shut up if you like society's storm,  
If you like to conform,  
If you like being one in a crowd,  
If you don't speak out against the so-called norm.  
Shut up if you don't embrace your identity,  
If you want to be identified by the plenty.  
Five, ten, twenty – people who don't know you,  
But tell you who you are, what you can say, what you can do.  
Shut up if you like being a puppet, a mime,  
If you like the lies that society uses to blind.  
Shut up if you'll be happy like this,  
If you think pure ignorance is bliss.  
But if you don't want to be controlled,  
If you don't like to be told,  
If you don't like to be sold,  
Speak up and let your identity unfold.  
Open your eyes and make the choice.  
Step into the light and use your voice.  
Be bold and brave  
For you have been saved.  
Don't be a victim of society's game.  
Don't think you're all the same.  
Don't think you're sane  
With a smile of happiness, but a head of pain.  
Speak up. Speak the truth.  
Don't let it go. Embrace your youth.  
No matter what society tells you to do  
To yourself be true; don't be anyone else but you.  
Listen to your heart within  
Because nonconforming is what's in.  
Identify and use your voice. Let it shine.  
Don't be a victim… of the silent crime."

People snapped their fingers. Some applauded. Others cheered, especially Sebastian and Kader. Anthony solemnly left the stage, adding to the dramatic and powerful feel of his words. They were intense. I felt his voice so hypnotic and moving. It kinda gave me this silent courage, very much like it did for Liz who was to perform soon. I could see why they have fun at these events. So poignant… and kind of an aphrodisiac, if I may say so myself.

He walked off to the bar and glad-handed a group of his friends and admirers on the way. Performers continued to grace the stage with their words and presence. Some burst into song. Some recited as they strummed guitars, struck triangles, danced their fingers across the piano. I heard ice cubes clanking in a glass. I looked over at Liz who had just finished her drink… and I stopped paying attention to my surroundings and to the performers on stage. She sat there complacent with her arms crossed over the table. She looked at me, memorizing my face for inspiration to the words she was going to recite. I smiled with my eyes and she bowed her head with a grin. It didn't occur to me that we were carrying on this long, drawn out conversation without even using words. I nudged her playfully and she threw her hair to the side with a quick turn of her face. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes scanning from mine, down to my lips, and back to my eyes. I leaned into her and placed my hand on her arm. My fingertips brushed against her goosebumps, and I started to feel her cool skin warm to my touch.

She wanted to lose herself in this moment. And in a way, she did. Her mind was at ease, her body nestled against mine, and her breathing steady. As much as I wanted to lose myself in her, I couldn't. I started to think of the events from earlier today… and at the possibility that touching her might get her sick, the way it did for Ashley. Yeah, it's a stupid and ridiculous idea, but what if she's right? What if I'm… contagious? I don't even know what sickness I have, but Ashley got me questioning myself. I tried to shake it off. It's stupid really. She's completely crazy! And here I am, with someone who's… not.

Yup, I don't need crazy in my life.

I felt her gently squeeze my hand, effectively bringing me out of my daze. I smiled up at her as she stood and proceeded to the stage. The snaps and claps faded as another performer stepped down. I watched her closely, her stare directed at the steps. And I listened as she gave herself final words of encouragement. She took a deep breath and marched up to the mic, never slowing her pace or hesitating. It was all continuous movement and I could've sworn she looked like she'd done this plenty of times before. Staring at me the whole time, she spoke:

"In an effort to get people to look  
Into each other's eyes more,  
The government has decided to allot  
Each person exactly one hundred  
And sixty-seven words, per day.  
When the phone rings, I put it  
To my ear without saying hello.  
In the restaurant I point  
At chicken noodle soup. I am  
Adjusting well to the new way.  
Late at night, I call my long-  
Distance lover and proudly say:  
I only used fifty-nine today.  
I saved the rest for you.  
When she doesn't respond, I know  
She's used up all her words,  
So I slowly whisper I love you,  
Thirty-two and a third times.  
After that, we just sit on the line  
And listen to each other breathe.  
_--The Quiet World_ by Jeffrey McDaniel"

Not once did she stutter. She let out a short sigh of relief before leaving the stage with great applause, her eyes still lost in mine.

Did I mention spoken word is such an aphrodisiac?

After the night was over, we walked down Hollywood and Highland a few times, holding hands and enjoying each other's presence. We exchanged stories and learned more about one another. What seemed like five minutes was actually four hours. We couldn't help but have such a great time with one another.

It was almost 2 AM when she walked me to my door. I didn't want the night to end, but I knew I'd hate myself in the morning if I didn't get at least a few hours of sleep. I have work on Tuesdays.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." She hesitantly released my hand and dug her own into her pockets.

"Me too." I responded sincerely. "I'd love to go to another night at the lounge."

"Yeah," Liz's face lit up, "there's a themed night every Monday night. On Friday's, they replace all the furniture with plush pillows and have hookah night with open mic."

"You did amazing tonight." I nodded. "Next time, you should read your own work." I fidgeted with my keys.

"I'm working on it." The corners of her lips curled subtly. _"So, now what? She's going inside. Do I try and kiss her? No, it's too soon."_ Even I started to get nervous. She was pretty much on point with what I was thinking too.

I lunged out and hugged her tightly. I felt her arms wrap around me as well.

"Call me." I left it at that.

"Mmhmm."

We pulled back and she had such longing in her eyes. I held onto the doorknob, bracing my weight against the door as she leaned in. But she quickly restrained herself, stepping back to my surprise.

"Okay, goodnight." She let out. I was a bit confused. Maybe I am contagious. _"I'm such a freakin' idiot!"_

"Goodnight." I gave her one last warm smile before turning to the door and letting myself in. When I shut the door behind me, she was already gone.

I felt my way through the pitch-black living room and into the hallway towards my bedroom. I nearly had a heart attack when Madison's door swung open. I saw Aiden standing there in his penguin-patterned boxers with the dim bedroom light shining against his skin. I could hear Madison's light snoring echoing from behind.

"Do you mind?" I grumbled as quietly as possible, referring to his indecent and sudden appearance. Aiden and I aren't the best of friends in our little group. So it does catch me off guard when I see my co-worker slash roommate's boyfriend in the partial nude.

"Sorry." He hid behind the door. Oh, I know that look. He has a favor to ask me. "Hey, where'd _you_ come from?" Aiden smiled smugly, noticing I was dressed to impress… and slightly glowing.

"Hung out with Liz." I opened my bedroom door next to me and tossed my clutch on my desk.

"Liz, huh?" His smile widened. "What about that Ashley chick?"

"Enough with the small talk," I crossed my arms, "what do you want?"

"What? I can't just have a casual conversation—" He noticed my _'do you know who you're talking to?'_ look. "Okay, you read my mind." Aiden surrenders nonchalantly, knowing his antics never work against me. "I left my econ book at the café. You mind getting it for me?"

"Why can't you get it yourself?" I retorted.

"Well, number one, I'm not dressed." He looked down at himself. "And number two, I'm trying to download notes from my professor's website so I can start cramming right _now_."

"Start cramming?"

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck in guilt, "I totally forgot I have a midterm today for econ. It just hit me in the middle of the night." That's what happens when you ditch classes to hang out and party hard with someone like Eddie. "And I left my book at the café. So, to save me time, can you please please _please_ get it for me so I can start reviewing notes. I'll owe you one! Anything you want is yours. I'll… work one of your shifts for you!" I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"No need to work my shifts, Aid." I grabbed my keys and turned to walk back down the dark hallway. "But I'll take you up on your offer someday."

"And please don't tell Madison." He whispered loudly. I exhaled overdramatically, as if he was asking me to move mountains.

I walked the twenty minutes to the café, momentarily dreading the fact that I'd have to be here in a few hours. I went through the back, unlocking the door quickly and running up to Charles' office to turn the alarm off. Even though it wasn't wrong to be in there after hours, I refused to turn the light on. I used my cell phone as my source of light, checking inside the cubby. But his book was nowhere to be found.

I knew he wouldn't leave it in Charles' office, but I ruffled through the desk and cabinets anyway. I even searched the entire floor downstairs. Nothing. I browsed through the bathroom and the storage room. Still nothing.

When I decided to give up, I peaked out into the "employee lounge" and noticed the book on one of the tables. Of all places to leave the book… where no one else ventures. I walked onto the roof, the chilling wind hitting my face as I shrugged into the warmth of my coat. I slowly approached the table when I noticed the lights go out from across the street. The Pit, another dive bar across the street known for its free karaoke, closed down for the night as the remaining customers stumbled out into the street. Three guys, in their drunken stupor, zigzagged down the left side of the street, singing random songs at all the wrong notes. They didn't seem to have any connection with the other two standing in front of the entrance.

I ducked behind the ledge, letting out my inner stalker… all because I noticed Ashley was one of the two remaining. The other appeared to be a slutty blonde, draping herself all over the brunette with her boob just a few centimeters from being exposed to the world. But Ashley remained unmoved to the immature girl who was shamelessly throwing herself at her. The brunette leaned up against the bar window, lighting a cigarette and ignoring the girl who was giggling and groping her. I rolled my eyes at the kind of lifestyle she lives… and she had the nerve to judge _me_ and say _I_ got her "sick." Please. I know a walking STD when I see one.

The blonde squinted through smiling eyes, taking Ashley's face in her hands. She mumbled something to her, something probably dirty and tempting because I could read that this girl had nothing but feisty intentions. The brunette shook her head side to side, cigarette dangling from her lips. She carefully pulled the blonde's hands down from her face, her eyes gazing down the street as a yellow cab stopped in front. Ashley escorted her to the waiting cab, offering a handful of cash to the driver and giving him directions. She blew the blonde a kiss and slowly shut the door.

The cab pulled away and Ashley proceeded to walk down the opposite end of the street. I stealthily stood from where I was hiding, reaching out for Aiden's book. I hugged the book to my chest and turned to go back inside.

Then I heard the worst sound ever.

And this all happened within a matter of milliseconds:

My glances shot to the street as I watched an Oldsmobile careen out of control, running a red light and speeding beyond the limit. I dropped the book the second Ashley stepped off the sidewalk.

She didn't even try to run, not like there was enough time to anyway. She just dropped her hands to her sides and braced herself for the impact. I could hear the ugly thud of her hitting the front bumper, her body smashing against the windshield, propelling her over the hood and onto the cold pavement. She lay there… lifeless.

Tires screeched as the car swerved a few more yards into a streetlight. I was frozen in place as the light shook upon impact and came crashing down moments later. The car had come to a stop.

No one was around. No one saw it. No one heard what I heard.

My hand shook as I held my phone. I stared at it, knowing I had to call 911. And as much as you think you know what you have to do in these types of situations, your reasoning escapes you when it all happens… and it happens so fast. I couldn't fathom what I just witnessed.

I finally felt blood rush to my shaking fingers as I dialed 911.

Just then, I watched in disbelief… my mind forced to process more of the impossible.

Ashley slowly sat up, her eyes pinned on the vehicle that was now steaming from the hood. She pushed herself off the ground and brushed herself off as she moved towards the car. She appeared to be completely unscathed and uninjured. The blood rushed away from my fingers and I found myself chillingly still as Ashley broke the driver's window and reached in to check if he was alive.

What… the fuck… just happened?


	5. Chapter 5: My Burden to Bear

**_Happy 1st of the month everyone! Glad you liked the last chapter, though this one's going to be more of a "brick-layer" chapter. Not uber exciting, but laying some groundwork. All important to the big picture of this ever-developing story. So, thanks for being patient! I'm just as eager as you are at getting to the goodies (and believe me I have TONS up my sleeves :D) But first thing's first._**

**_THANKS FOR READING/REVIEWING! You guys give me warm fuzzies in my belly lol.. I've got nothing but love for you all!!  
Straight up, I've got mad love for you_ letsbefrankimawkward_! Just you wait and see what other poems I've got in store for ya! :D_ dttdemon_, I can't believe you stayed up on a school day, crazy! But I'm flattered!_ SoNFANFOREVER _and _Momo The Great_, you guys rock! I'm so privileged to have you reading since_ Delta One_. _lone_fenix_, I'll try my best not to disappoint you. You know I won't once it happens, but in the meantime, I'll just torture you slowly :P_**

**_And as always, thanks to my lovely beta, _River.R, _who puts up with my idiocy :)  
(PS. Thanks to KairiSD, I just got sucked into _orangestripes66's_ fics... effing brilliant work!)_**

**_Enjoy! 7.1.09_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters._**

* * *

I could safely say that if the café were to set fire, I would've gone down in a roaring blaze. My feet weren't going to move from where they were planted. I had chills running down my spine, and my skin was crawling with goosebumps. Yet, the cold night had nothing to do with it.

Ashley's clear as day, walking around as normal as… well, as normal as if she _didn't_ just get hit by a car.

I blinked really hard. Was I seeing things?

No! It happened! I _saw_ it happen. It played over and over in my head, each playback slower than the one before. I swear I could even narrate the story to every detail, draw sketches, and create pie charts. It _had_ to have happened. This isn't the type of stuff someone just makes up in her head… unless, of course, you've gone crazy.

But I'm _not_ crazy!

Well… maybe a little. I don't know!

I heard her muffled voice in the distance, trying to briefly communicate with the driver, but it was apparent he was unconscious. She remained completely calm as she stepped away to do what I couldn't do: call 911.

She paced back and forth, periodically checking on the unconscious driver.

It was mere minutes before sirens wailed from a distance… and she saw it as her cue to leave the scene.

Wait, why is she leaving?! I want her to explain the crazy.

I stood amongst the shadows in my paralysis, watching the paramedics ride in on their fire truck to pry the car open like a can of sardines. A few of them surveyed the street to make sure the electrical damage wasn't going to cause any fire hazards until they could get the electric company to fix the broken streetlight in the morning. They even managed to carefully shovel it off of the street and onto the sidewalk. LAPD came and they set up red flares, directing the few cars that passed by around the accident.

The driver was slowly coming to when the ambulance arrived to transport him to the hospital. He didn't look too good, nor did the rut he got himself into… and the way the cop was talking with the paramedics, it was nothing but your typical misdemeanor DUI.

I don't know if it was the sudden and unexpected event that unfolded before my eyes, or the slew of unanswered questions that flooded my mind, but I didn't even remember the walk back home. I only briefly snapped myself out of Crazyland and into the now when I heard the lock turn as I entered my apartment. My mind was still running on one track as I headed straight for my room and quietly shut the door behind me.

I sat on the floor in the dark, leaning against the side of my bed. For some reason, the darkness blinding my eyes kept me calm. Kept my mind quiet… momentarily.

Who else knew? Am I the only one? Did I just see something I wasn't supposed to?

**I **_**hate**_** knowing something I shouldn't…**

"Stock's up two percent." Dad announced mundanely from behind the newspaper.

"That's good, I suppose." Mom muttered from across the table, chopping her scrambled eggs in smaller pieces as she kept her eyes peeled on the article she was reading in _Modern Healthcare_.

Clay poured warm maple syrup onto his French toast, careful not to get his index cards sticky. He was studying them for the Junior High State Spelling Bee. He won our school's 7th and 8th grade Spelling Bee, but this would be the first time he qualified for the state competition after winning the regional one. Next to him sat Glen, who was easily entertained with squirting ketchup smiley faces on his eggs.

"Oops." The nearly empty ketchup bottle splattered a few drops on one of the index cards.

"Glen!" Clay exclaimed, his eyes growing wide like saucers.

"Relax, dorkus!" He read the card quickly before yanking it off the table. "You already know how to spell 'rhinoceros.'"

"Fine! Keep it, jock strap. You couldn't spell _rhinoceros_ if your life depended on it!"

"R-H-I-N-O…" Glen tilted his head, eyes to the ceiling, "S-A-U…" Clay smirked before Glen quickly glanced at the card. "I meant… C-E-R…"

"No cheating!"

"Whatever!" He flung the card at Clay.

Aside from Clay being black and Glen being white, they were seen as the epitome of polar opposites all throughout junior high. Clay was a straight A student. He willingly joined the Academic Decathlon in the 6th grade (you had to be a 7th or 8th grader, but the teachers bent the rules for him), and he'd participated in it ever since. He always got first place at the Science Fair, except for that one time his potato battery caught fire and he got second place. Glen's a B-average student, sometimes losing allowance over a C here and there. He was the most popular kid in the 8th grade, and of course every girl (even girls from my grade) would go gaga over him. He played soccer, football, basketball, and ran track. What he lacked in intellect, he made up in sports.

"_Arthur will pick up the kids at 3, shift ends at 7, and I'll see David at 8."_ My head jerked towards my mother, who acknowledged me from the corner of her eye.

"Mom, who's Da—"

"Spence, finish your French toast." She blurted, her eyes dancing around before landing on her wristwatch. Why's she getting all jumpy? "It's 7:30. We should get going." She stood, dishes in hand.

"I got it, honey. Don't worry about it." Dad folded the newspaper, his eyes twinkling. _"Ahh… today has started perfectly."_ He loved the moments we all shared together. As a family, we made time to sit down and have breakfast every Friday morning... until tradition broke sometime while I was in high school. Dad's eyes gazed at all of us, and I knowingly smiled at him. "See you at 3, sweetie." I hugged him tightly.

"Today _is_ a perfect day, daddy." He kissed my head.

"Bye dad!" Glen and Clay waved before grabbing their belongings.

"Thanks for breakfast, dear!" Mom gave dad a closed-lip kiss. I watched her suspiciously.

"Just wait 'til you see what I've got in store for dinner." His eyes still glistened.

"Aww," she scrunched her face, "unfortunately, I'm working the double shift today. I'm off at 2 in the morning." I glared at her. "Sorry honey! Rain check?"

"Of course." The corner of his lips tilted. He's too understanding sometimes. "Have a good day."

"You too, sweetie." She suddenly turned to me, gripping my wrist tightly and dragging me towards the front door where Glen and Clay were bickering. "Let's go or we'll be late!"

I couldn't believe it. Mom lied. Mom was cheating on dad. What's a twelve-year-old to do with this information?

I swear it was like five seconds later when we got to the front of our school. I snapped out of Crazyland again, and back into reality.

"Bye Clay! I'm sure you won't need it, but good luck on your pre-algebra test." She kissed him on the cheek as Glen was already out of the car, darting towards the popular 8th grade clique he was head of.

"Piece of cake, but thanks mom!" He let himself out. I scooted across the way to the door Glen left open.

"Spence?"

"Yeah mom?" I asked through clenched teeth. She peeked at me through the rearview mirror before turning in her seat.

"Wh-what you heard this morning…"

"You're cheating on dad." I meant for it to come out as a question, but it came out in an abrupt sentence. A sentence that devastated me the second I heard myself say it.

"I wouldn't necessarily say I'm cheating on your fa—"

"I'm not stupid, mom. I'm twelve." She looked down in guilt. "So who's David?"

"Spencer, you're too young to understand."

"What's there to understand?! You're cheating on dad!" It became a solid fact. I started to believe in it whole-heartedly. I wish I didn't, but let's stick to the facts, shall we? "Who's David?" I repeated a little angrier than before.

"Another doctor at the hospital."

"I can't believe you." I shook my head.

"Honey, you don't understand!" She raised her voice in defense. "David's there for me the way your father isn't. He listens to me when I talk… and he understands my life because we are both working in the same field."

"That's no excuse!"

"Spencer, don't you see how much I'm better because of him? I don't come home grumpy and hateful. I don't lash out at any of you anymore. Your father and I have stopped fighting. I've gotten better!" She tried hard to convince me, though she was only fooling herself. "If anything, you should be thanking him!"

"_Thanking_ him?!" I rolled my eyes. "How long has this been happening for?" Just then, the bell rang and everyone started to file into the building.

"We'll talk about this later. Hurry before you're late for class."

"I hate you," I said before turning towards the door. It surprised me how easily it came out, especially since we were taught at a young age that 'hate' was such a powerful word.

"Spencer," she growled, "if you tell your father or brothers, it could tear the family apart. What they don't know won't hurt them. Do you _really_ want that on your conscience?"

"They won't hear it from me." I stood up and draped my backpack over my shoulder before walking away.

My life just fell apart… and only I would know that.

That was my burden to carry.

**I **_**hate**_** knowing something I shouldn't… especially because it somehow always comes back to bite me in the ass…**

"Turkey's done!" Dad smiled proudly, carrying the platter into the dining room.

"Wonderful!" Mom squealed. Clay and I took our seats across from one another, marveling at the delicious meal brought before us, as Glen lit the tall white candles set on each side of the long table. Everything's symmetric. Perfect even. That's how mom likes it. The mantles, the coffee table, the dining room. Everything was caked in Thanksgiving décor which was overwhelming, considering their Santa Barbara home was tiny, compared to the house we grew up in back in Los Angeles. The brown, red, orange, and yellow hues balanced each other out in that harvesty hue. But I could see past the entire pretense, even if I wasn't a Psych minor. This was all she had. This was all she could control. This was all she could hide behind, masking her shame and depression.

"It came out perfectly tender and juicy!" Dad's eyes lit up as he cut thin slices and placed them neatly on our plates.

"So good to be home." Clay folded his hands.

"Right?" Glen patted his shoulder, "especially with a home-cooked meal like this." We all marveled at the yams, cranberry sauce, dad's signature stuffing, green peas, ham, and mashed potatoes. So good to be home indeed.

Dad sat down and we all held hands in prayer.

"Spencer?" Mom asked wearily. We all bowed our heads.

"Dear Lord, we gather together in your name on this day of thanks. Thank you for all that you've given us with such open arms and generous hands. Thank you for the blessings of health, family, happiness, warmth and love. Thank you for this bountiful meal we are about to eat. And thank you for the success of mom's surgery. May her recovery be a speedy one, and may she no longer have her seizures. Oh merciful Father, we pray that you will grant us many more years of blessings and wonderful moments together as a family. We ask this through Christ our lord…"

"Amen." We said in unison.

"Thank you." Mom mouthed to me and I genuinely smiled.

"Mmm." Clay's eyes rolled back as he savored the taste of such succulent turkey and hastily cut another piece.

"Mmhmm!" Dad chewed with his mouth closed. Glen, on the other hand…

"Hrmm yom! Dad," he nodded along, "this…" his lips smacked together. Turkey already has the reputation of being the dumbest bird. To add insult to injury, it now has the reputation of making my idiot brother slobber like a rabid animal every Thanksgiving.

"Glen, honey…"

"Sorry." He continued to chew quietly before swallowing. "Amazing! You never cease to amaze us every Thanksgiving, dad!"

"Thanks son!"

"You know, I wish Chelsea was here to try your stuffing." Clay chortled. "I couldn't help but brag about it the entire way to the airport."

"When are we finally going to meet this lovely lady?" Mom asked quietly. She had her second lobotomy three months ago, and she started speech therapy two weeks later. She's definitely come a long way, recovering slowly but surely. No seizures so far.

"Yeah, and how long have you guys been dating now?" Glen mumbled.

"Seven months," Clay smiled to himself. "She'll be here for Christmas, but she's in San Francisco celebrating with her family today."

"Tell 'em how you met." My eyes lit up as I mindlessly shuffled my peas around with my fork.

"It's a really cheesy story," his eyes glanced back and forth between mom and dad. "I was looking for the ATM and I got lost walking circles around the art studios on campus. It so happened, Chelsea was showing off her work that night at an exhibition. I asked her where I could find the ATM for some _money_, and somehow she thought I said _Édouard Manet_." He bobbled his head at the cheesiness of it. Everyone else couldn't help but grin. "And we just hit it off from there."

"Aww… the best kind of love always starts off cheesy, right honey?" Dad winked at mom. She simply smiled back before turning her attention back to her meal. My eyes narrowed. It stung me to this very day how in love dad was with her, and how she spat it back in his face… on numerous occasions… with different men.

"Unless it's sleazy." I said under my breath, but Glen heard.

"Speaking of sleazy, how's Madison?"

"Hey, be nice! She's my roommate now."

"Just because you guys dormed together last year didn't mean you had to pick her to live with this year." I rolled my eyes at him as he stuffed a chunk of ham into his mouth. Glen's still bitter that she dumped him for Aiden at his senior prom three years ago.

"Madison and I have been friends even before the rise and quick fall of whatever dysfunctional relationship you had with her."

"Is she still dating that tool?" He jeered.

"Yes." I nibbled on my mash. I couldn't argue with him there. Aiden can be a tool sometimes… or most of the time.

"And how's Eddie?" Shit. I was _really_ hoping we weren't gonna go there. I glanced at Clay. He was the only one who knew… at least that's what I thought.

"We're not dating anymore." I responded hesitantly.

"Why? What'd he do?" Glen's voice instantly became defensive, but in a fake way. "If he hurt you, I swear I'm gonna…"

"I dumped _him_." I looked at him inquisitively. Some how, Glen knew.

"Oh?"

"Really, honey?" Mom pressed on. "Why?" My eyes were now pleading with Clay's.

"Uh, dad, this… stuffing tastes a little different." Everyone's eyes turned to Clay. "Did you add a little something to it?"

"Small change, but glad you noticed! I added oregano." He talked ecstatically with his fork. "Keen sense of taste you got there!" Clay smiled back.

"Clay, tell us more stories of life at NYU." I beckoned with a nod. "Tell 'em about your internship!" I was always in the know because Clay and I would talk at least once a week.

"Oh, yeah!" He put down his knife and fork with a grin spreading across his face, "the political science program offered this opportunity of a lifetime: an internship to work at the White House. I applied and got in! I start in January!"

"Awesome!" Dad was even more ecstatic.

"Congratulations, sweetie!" Mom smiled quaintly. I could tell she was getting tired. She periodically stopped to pat down her hair over the stitches on the side of her head. They were hardly noticeable now that her hair has grown back over that small patch, but she still felt self-conscious.

"Now you can say you're homies with GW." Glen laughed to himself. I shook my head. "So Spence," he put his elbows on the table, shoveling up more mash, "why'd you dump Eddie?" I subtly shook my head at him as his thoughts surrounded the name of Johnny.

"He's… shallow and boring." I shrugged. "Nothing else to say." Mom sat still, observing me careful. Clay's eyes panned back and forth as he sat ready to jump in at any second to mediate.

"So," Glen looked down at his plate, "weird coincidence… Johnny, Eddie's older brother, is on the San Diego State basketball team. He said something about you dumping Eddie for a gir—"

"Can you pass the peas, please?" Clay loudly interrupted. Glen furrowed his eyebrows before passing the dish.

"So what's for dessert?" I folded my hands, looking over at dad. He grunted with excitement, wanting to speak, but was still chewing on his food. Unfortunately, it was another quiet opportunity for someone to throw me under the bus.

"Spencer, are you dating someone new?" My mom's thoughts were suspicious of me.

"_Want me to interrupt?"_ Clay's thoughts swirled in my head. I shook my head at Clay, glared at Glen's puzzling expression (oblivious to having opened a can of worms), and took a deep breath.

"Yes, I am." I put my fork down. I could've lied. But really… what's the point?

"That's good, Spence." Dad said encouragingly. "Who's the lucky guy?"

My breath was getting shallower to the point where I could've sworn air was not passing through my lungs anymore. My brothers watched cautiously, as if they were anticipating a train wreck. And in a sense, so was I.

"_Her_ name is Erica." That's all that managed to slip from my lips. She's my _girl_friend. And being so into her, there was nothing I wouldn't have said or done to justify just how happier I was with her than I could ever be with someone as dense as Eddie.

Everyone gawked at me. And I prepared myself for an emotional beating.

"Erica," Mom uttered, "who's a girl." I nodded. "As are you." I nodded again.

"So, you two are…" Glen followed suit, "lesbians."

"It doesn't matter what you call it," I responded sternly as mom softly wiped her mouth with her dinner napkin, "I like her… a lot."

"_What has this school turned my daughter into?!"_ My head snapped to mom's direction.

"It has nothing to do with UCLA, mom!" I had no idea how loud I blurted that out until her eyes widened. "Stop trying to find reasons to hate UCLA just because of what happened with you and your career there."

"Okay," she flung her napkin onto the table, "you wanna make this about you, Spencer? Okay." She leaned closer, her eyes unwavering. "I will not have _this_ in my family, you understand? This… thing with that girl… it ends now!"

"You don't know her. You haven't even met her! She's not a bad—"

"I don't want to know her." She responded with such cold indifference. "I don't want to meet her. I don't care who she is. You are not to see her anymore."

"Paula, please—" Dad tried to defend me.

"You, of all people, should _not_ be telling me how to live my life." My eyes narrowed combatively. "You can't tell me who I can and cannot love! You don't even know the meaning." She understood what I was getting at. She knew it was at the tip of my tongue. It was my warning to her to choose her next words carefully.

"As long as we pay for your college tuition, you _will_ do what we tell you to." She pushed on fearlessly, daring me to resist. "If you continue to see this girl, we'll stop supporting you… and I won't ever want to see you again, understand?" She growled hatefully.

"Fine!" I scoffed. "I'll get financial aid!"

"You barely make enough to pay rent." She laughed in my face. "You wouldn't last more than a month without our help." She sat back, crossing her arms and shaking her head condescendingly. "All this for some… _girl!_" Her face scrunched bitterly.

"Paula, enough!"

"Don't you see, Arthur?" She pointed at me with such disdain, like a useless and inhumane being. "She'd choose this travesty of a relationship over her education… over her family. She's breaking all of us apart!"

"She is _not!_" Dad's eyes pierced hers. "You need to stop!"

"Do you _really _want that on your conscience, Spencer?"

And with that, she triggered me. She brought me back to that day when I was twelve and I knew I would hate her forever. It was my burden to bear for all these years. Every time dad smiled at mom, every time he hugged her, kissed her, every time he did something small to show he loved her, I died a little inside… knowing what I knew. Knowing she didn't deserve any part of the good heart my dad possessed.

When she put that question out there, her voice was as direct as it was eight years ago. It hit me the same way… except I wasn't twelve anymore.

"It was you." Tears welled up in my angry eyes. "_You_ broke this family apart years ago… and you put the burden on _my_ shoulders for knowing. But really… it's _your_ conscience that needs clearing."

"Spence, what are you saying?" Dad looked at the both of us intently as mom and I continued to have a staring battle. I dared her with my eyes. I dared her to tell the truth, but she remained unmoved.

"Mom was unfaithful." I wasn't eager to say it, but the truth had to be heard… even if it broke all of our hearts.

"Paula?" His eyes pleaded for her to deny it, but she simply glanced at him before lowering her eyes to her half empty plate. Dad swallowed hard. "For how long?"

Mom ignored his question and our stares as she got up and headed for the front door. She grabbed her purse and left.

A heap of angry, upset, disappointed, and painful thoughts and questions swarmed my mind… and not a single one of them belonged to me. Though I felt the burden was no longer mine to bear, it was now on all of our shoulders. I started to feel guilty because I started to believe her. I think I tore us apart. I couldn't bear the repercussions of what would become of us now. I ran up to the guest room, shut the door, and sat on the floor against the bed… consumed by the darkness and the stillness that it brought me.

But I wasn't alone for long. I could hear footsteps approaching on the wooden floors. The door creaked open slightly and the hallway light seeped in.

Dad walked in and shut the door softly, never breaking eye contact. He shuffled over and sat next to me, not saying a word. He was hurt, but I knew he had good intentions.

"I'm sorry," was all I could muster up in a whisper.

"Spencer, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about." I could hear just how heartbroken he was by the tone of his somber voice, yet he remained encouraging as he draped his arm over my shoulders.

"Why not?" I leaned my head on his shoulder, which caused a few tears to drip from the corners of my eyes. "Hell has officially frozen over when you find out, all on the same night, that your daughter's gay and your wife's been cheating on you."

"Don't think like that," he squeezed my shoulder. "First of all, the one thing you can do to disappoint me the most is to not stay true to who you are." The vibrations from his voice soothed me. "I knew, from the moment I picked you up in my arms the day you were born, that I would love you… no matter what. I would support you no matter what. There's no changing that."

"Even at the cost of our family falling apart?"

"Our family hasn't fallen apart." He paused in contemplation. "I'm sure your mother didn't mean what she said in there. She just reacted that way because this is new to her. She doesn't know what to make of it yet."

"I hate that she just can't accept me the way you do." I shook my head in frustration. "Why doesn't she love me?"

"She _does_ love you… very much. But you have to give her time to understand." He patted my head. "Things will get better, Spence. I promise you."

"What about between you and mom?" I raised my head to look at him. He gulped, feeling the sting of betrayal. I cringed, blinking slowly.

"I won't lie. It was devastating. Probably the worst feeling I've ever experienced," he took another deep breath, "but we made a vow… for better or for worse. We have a lot to sort through, which will take a lot of time and patience, God willing we work together at it. But I think that whatever happens, things will work out somehow."

"You are incredibly strong, dad." I looked at him with admiring eyes, dowsed in warm tears. "And I'm so sorry it came out the way it did."

"Spencer," he turned and grabbed me gently, but firmly by the shoulders, "you're not to blame, you hear me?" I nodded. "I hated the fact that you felt obligated to hold onto something that heavy for so long."

"I know," the tears streamed down, "I just didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you… or our family." He hugged me as I sniffled into his shoulder. We breathed into each other's comfort.

"The last thing I would ever want is for you to feel unsafe and scared to tell me anything. No matter what you say or do… it won't stop me from loving you." He rubbed my back. "And our family has faced challenges, big and little. But we've always emerged stronger somehow. This family is too good to fall apart. Carlin's are fighters. You know that."

"Of course," I chuckled briefly before pulling back and wiping the damp trails of my tears.

"I love you, Spencer."

"Love you too, dad."

And that was Thanksgiving 2007.

I have all faith in the courage and drive that dad carries. But it's very doubtful that mom would ever love me… or even acknowledge me, her gay daughter who exposed her to the rest of the family.

It gets easier though. I've coped with it, and I blame myself less and less everyday for what happened.

A soft knock on the door draws me back from Memory Lane, and I look up at the door creaked open, the hallway light seeping in.

"Spencer?" Aiden whispered as he leaned in a little further. "I heard the front door. Just wanted to see if you found my…" he noticed me in my seated fetal position, hugging his book to my chest "…book."

"Uh," I shook my head, trying to snap out of my dazed expression, "yeah." I stretched out and jumped up to hand him his econ book. "Sorry!" I smiled sheepishly, knowing it was not one bit convincing.

"Are you… okay?" He raised a brow, hesitantly taking the book from me. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

You could say that.

"I-I'm fine," another attempt at a reassuring smile. "I'm just tired. I've got the early shift today." I sulked, suddenly realizing it was about a quarter to 3.

"You sure everything's fine?" He asked, somewhat concerned. I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to get it off my chest because Ashley's freak accident and her miraculous survival story were not my secret to keep. I've already learned my lesson of letting secrets like that eat me alive. Someone's gonna find out eventually, right?

"Yep," I nodded, placing one hand on the door. He paused in suspicion, but I didn't care to share anymore. For one thing, Aiden would maybe be the 4th person I would tell, after I told Donny, Madison, and Sarah. Not to mention, he has a midterm to cram for, I have sleep to cram for, and I don't feel like getting into hour long discussions about the anomaly that is Ashley. "I need to hit the hay."

"Alright," he looked down at his book before turning away, "well, I owe you one."

"Mmhmm."

"G'night Spencer," he whispered loudly.

**I **_**hate**_** knowing something I shouldn't… because it implies that I need to do something about it… **

**Either keep it to myself… or share it.**


	6. Chapter 6: The Good,the Bad and the Ugly

**_AH MAH GAH! Those were the most agonizing 4 months of my LIFE! Sorry to leave you all high and dry! On another note, HAPPY THANKSGIVING to those who celebrate it! I, for one, will be stuffing my face shamelessly tonight to celebrate my thankfulness for all of you taking the time to read _Daunting Silence_! I'm excited to kick out this chapter because I'm overly eager to get to the nitty gritty of this story._**

**_Shouty shouts: lalalalee, SouthofNowherefanatic, goshNyike, LoLo06, Alicexangelx, themoojournals, Birdseyeview17, booIczu, me4son, and SkittleMeThisSkittleMeThat... Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!! :D_**

**_Rambunctious shouts: My rockin' beta, River. R (you're the best, grasshopper!), Carrie: I almost peed my pants when I saw your review!! You're my ff idol!, letsbefrankimawkward: happy dances all around! hopefully no more physical impairments! :D, southaholic-KairiSD, SoNFANFOREVER, mutt009, lone fenix, and DushkusBitch: got nothing but UBER love for you guys!! Thanks for the long-term support!_**

**_So, as Coca-cola would say... Enjoy! :) 11.26.09_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters. I don't own Coca-cola either LOL... and hopefully no one out there is a Sigma Chi Theta (I googled to make sure it wasn't a real frat/sorority... but ya never know)..._**

* * *

To say I'm exhausted would be a grave understatement.

I tossed and turned, with unanswered questions and my own speculations running through my mind. And I don't think it was until maybe 4 in the morning when I sufficiently wore myself out from all the tossing and turning that I finally fell asleep. An hour after that, I was dragging myself out of bed for work. It didn't even feel like I slept for at least five minutes.

When Donny and I work the early shift together, we don't have to say words when we see each other. A nod, a grunt, a sigh, a head shake, and an eye roll are all that compress our thoughts into easily understood gestures…

I walk in through the front a few seconds after Donny turns the café lights on. He nods at me to acknowledge he sees me. No smile. I grunt to say it's too early. He sighs in agreement and shakes his head, as to rhetorically ask me why we're stupid enough to take this job. I roll my eyes to ask him if we have any other choice.

Donny's already starting up the brewers when I come back downstairs from putting my stuff away in the cubby. He knows the routine: he puts the espresso machine on, mixes the dark liquid with ice in a shaker, and pours the elixir of _life_ into the small sampler cups. I am _not _a nice person without my caffeine. And I must say that working for a java house definitely has its perks (no pun intended).

He makes enough for three espresso shots each. Something's off though. Something's different. Donny's mind was troubled. Angry and hurt maybe. But he's making it quite difficult to read him, especially at this time of day. I know he's holding something back.

"What is it?" I asked.

"About Friday…"

"Yeah?"

"I think we should talk about—"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "I shouldn't have put all my drinks on your tab." I scrunched my face sheepishly.

"…Oh." Donny paused. "No, that's okay." He hesitated and I knew there was something more. I cursed myself for getting so shit-faced to not remember much from that night.

"That was it, right?"

"What?"

"That's what you wanted to talk about?"

"You don't remember?" He scoffed, and I couldn't believe how naïve I was to believe it was all about the liquor.

His thoughts began to play in my head like a film reel... and I immediately felt like an asshole…

"Hey!" Vanessa stepped between Melinda and me. "You need to let it go!"

"Fuck you!" I pushed her. Vanessa raised her fist and before she could swing, Donny wrapped his arms around my waist and dragged me into an empty booth in the back. Melinda and Madison immediately pulled Vanessa in the opposite direction.

"What's _wrong_ with you?!" Donny stood over me as I rolled my eyes carelessly.

"Wha's wrong with _youuu_?" I slurred. "Why're you gonna defend that bitchhh?"

"You're making a fool out of yourself, Spencer!"

"No… I'm not." I shook my head rigorously, which made me a little dizzy. "I can't belieeeve you chose their dumbasses over _meee_," I pointed at myself, "your bessst frrriend!"

"This isn't about me choosing…"

"You're a shitty fucking friend, you know that?"

"_I'm_ a shitty friend?!" His eyes grew wider as mine shriveled through squinted lids. "You drowned yourself in alcohol, made a scene, and made this day about yourself… when it's my girlfriend's birthday. I'm trying to do damage control for your ass and…"

"I didn't ask for your help," I pushed his shoulder.

"Don't push me, Spence!" He pointed down at me.

"Get outta here, Donny," I flicked my wrist at him, avoiding eye contact. "Shouldn't you be taking care of your spoiled ass girlfriend anyway?" I grabbed a half-empty martini glass in front of me and, without hesitation, chugged the room temperature vodka in it. Who knows whose drink it was?

Donny shook his head in disapproval… and disappointment. He leaned in close.

"I should be. But I'm stuck watching out for my pissed drunk, temperamental _friend_." He said so slowly, yet sternly. "No wonder Melinda cheated on your sorry ass."

"Fuuuuck… youuuu." I carelessly flipped him off as he turned to find Sarah and leave.

I blinked slowly, snapping out of his thoughts. He stood there quietly, his face slumped.

"Donny, I am _so_ sorry. I don't even remember that happening!" My frown mimicked his. "I didn't mean anything I said. I swear!" I insisted at defending myself and saying anything to salvage our friendship. "_You're_ not a shitty friend. _I'm_ a shitty friend. I shouldn't have…"

"No, Spence," he sighed, "I was shitty for bringing up Melinda. I shouldn't have said that."

"I deserved it!" I knew I sounded overly dramatic, but I didn't care.

"No, you didn't. She's a shallow person with no morals who hurt my best friend." He shook his head in shame. "There's no excuse for me throwing that in your face. That was such a low blow, considering how hard it's been for you lately."

"Don't worry about it." I shook my head and grabbed his shoulder in comfort. "I just hope you can forgive me for word-vomiting a bunch of hurtful things I didn't mean, especially about you and your relationship with Sarah."

"Did you mean it?" His eyes pleaded with mine. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Donny," I shook my head, "I can't mean it if I can't even remember ever saying it."

"They say the truth comes out when you're drunk."

"That's hardly the truth… and that's unfair." I paused to compose myself, feeling like I'd been backed into a corner. "I love Sarah as much as I love you, Donny. You're good for each other and she makes you happy… which makes me happy. And _that's_ the truth. Nothing else."

He nodded, letting my words sink in.

"I was an emotional wreck spurred on by alcohol, desperately trying to cover up the pain. You, of all people, know that nothing remotely rational would come outta my mouth that night."

"True."

"So, please forgive me?" There was a fair amount of silence between us before he spoke again.

"Forgiven," a small smirk formed at the corner of his mouth as he gave me a reassuring nod.

"Hug it out?" I stretched my arms. I'm a sucker for hugs!

"Sure," he laughed as he embraced me tightly. I felt less of an asshole… but an asshole's an asshole nonetheless.

I'm never drinking again.

"You're the bestest best friend I've ever had." I mumbled against his shoulder.

"_I know."_

"And I love how humble you try to be," I giggled, "even if your mind is so cocky!" We let out of our embrace.

"You know you can talk to me whenever you want, right?" He squeezed my shoulder.

"I know."

"I mean it, Spence. Even if you have to rant for the millionth time about how much you hate Melinda's guts and how you want to punch Vanessa in the ovaries, I'm here to listen." He reassured. "That's what best friends are for."

I laughed. "Of course."

"Shall we?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow at me. "Drink off?"

"They're espresso shots, Donny." He managed to get me to laugh so much this early in the morning. "Not tequila shots."

"Then what are you afraid of?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Why are you always trying to compete with me?" I grinned competitively. "You've never beaten me at anything involving drinks of any sorts."

"Then put your money where your mouth is and let's race." He arranged the samplers in two rows of three. "Loser washes down and cleans before second shift?"

"Ha!" I stuck my hand out and he gladly shook it. "You're on!" We stood with our hands at our sides and I could hear _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_ playing in his head. Cue imaginary tumbleweed tumbling by.

"Ready, get set," Donny paused, but I could hear his thoughts so clearly, "go!" My hand reached for the first cup maybe a millisecond before he set us off. Ah, the beauty of mind-reading! I always get some type of head start knowing when the gun's gonna go off.

I threw back the first shot just as he brought the first cup to his lips. He's messing with the wrong woman! When it comes to competition, I win. I _always_ win. You just can't beat me! I felt my hair swish against my cheeks as I threw back the second and third shots. I slammed the last cup onto the countertop and threw my hands in the air, jumping up and down like a giddy little teenybopper.

"I win!" I shoved my index finger in his face. "You lose!" Wow, those espresso shots really kick your ass into gear!

"You cheated." Donny finished his last shot and began clearing the countertop.

"What?" I looked at him naïvely. "How'd I cheat?"

"_Oh, come on!"_ He returned an incredulous look. "You _know_ how."

"I don't know what you're talking about or, in this case, what you're thinking about." I said so smugly before skipping my way into the storage room. Apparently the delivery truck came late last night and the night shift before only stored away the perishables. Lazy bums didn't put everything away! So I sat on the floor and began stacking non-perishables on the bottom shelves, organizing the flavored syrups, and tallying everything up while Donny took the chairs down from the tabletops.

I started to reminisce about the day we first met…

It was Halloween 2006. The Sigma Chi Theta's were throwing their annual masquerade party. They might as well have named this holiday "Dia de los Sluts!" I went with Madison... or should I say, the French maid. And in true slutty fashion, I went as a naughty pirate. Two of our dormmates, Olivia who was dressed as a school girl and Tonya dressed as a cowgirl, came with. We were on a mission to meet some fine-looking frat boys and expand our social circles. I mean, c'mon… it's the thing to do as a freshman!

When we got to the frat house porch, we were greeted by Mr. Incredible and Batman. They sat on the porch next to their large wooden Greek letters, sipping their Budweisers and mentally preparing themselves not to look entirely stupid in their drunken demeanor. And in a sense, I was mentally preparing myself not to lose brain cells reading their stupidity.

"Hey ladies," Mr. Incredible stood up in such messy swagger, "wanna hang out with some _real_ superheroes?" He swung his arm around Olivia's neck.

"No, thank you," she scoffed and pushed his arm off as we continued to walk right into the dark abyss of black lights, strobe lights, and blaring booty-popping music. The entire foyer and living room was swarming with a sea of characters, from Playboy bunny and male nurse to slutty Tinkerbell and Fred Flinstone, grinding and pop-locking to _Gold Digger_ by Kanye West and Jamie Foxx. We made our way to the kitchen, where a man in a large gorilla costume poured us a round of Jager bombs and another round from the keg. Everyone else in the kitchen was too busy with the beer pong tournament.

This tourney of beer pong intrigued me, namely because I've never played it (and after that night, I swore to myself I'd never do it again), and because it wasn't strictly beer, which was being poured in the clear cups. There were a few blue cups filled with Patrόn, Jager, and Stoli; there was also a single red cup filled with Everclear.

Anyways, we took our Jager bombs and had our beers as chasers. Madison was on a mission to steal this firefighter away from a Playboy bunny on the dance floor. Naturally, Olivia and Tonya followed suit as wingwomen. I waved them off, finding the tourney absolutely entertaining. Apparently, it was boys versus girls. Playboy bunny #17 (because I swear there had to be a million of 'em scattered around… which makes sense because bunnies mate like crazy!) and devil chick in red spandex teamed up against banana man and Luigi. The girls were losing horribly, probably because it's a requirement that you must be awesome in beer pong to be a Sigma. And once you're a Sigma, they probably make you practice beer pong every single day, even in your sleep… just like Forrest Gump, minus the paddle, plus the liquor. Team Girl hardly got the clear cups; they were drinking from all the blue ones. It was apparent that the guys they were smoozing over between drinks, one dressed as a police officer and the other dressed as a naval officer, had no other intentions than to escort the ladies upstairs and show them their nightstick and battleship, if you get my drift.

Behind them, I noticed a girl dressed as an electric socket and a guy dressed as an electric plug. Every time he plugged himself into her socket, the light bulb on his head would light up. It was hilarious, since he went around chasing her with his plug. The way they were acting (and thinking), I knew they were exclusive.

I was suddenly caught off guard with the large gorilla, who was making a sad attempt at dancing with me slash hitting on me.

"So… pirate, huh?"

"Yeaaaah…" I smiled politely.

"Sweet." He started to bob his head and sip his beer to Bubba Sparxxx's _Ms. New Booty_. He crept up into my personal space and tried to dance with me. "Wanna dance?" He pulled down his mask and started to dance more erratically, making it worse by howling and pounding on his chest.

"Uhh… In a minute?" I heard loud cheering and a ruckus coming from the tourney table, but the gorilla man cornered me against the refrigerator so I couldn't see what was going on.

"Aww… c'moooon!" He let out inaudibly from behind that plastic mask.

"I need another drink."

"You _know_ you wanna dance." He attempted to grab me.

"I'm just gonna—"

"Hey pirate chick!" The electric plug wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Usually, I'd feel offended that someone had the audacity to be all up on me, but I read his thoughtfulness in trying to save me from King Kong here. "We need another for beer pong. Interested?"

"Absolutely!" I grinned as we walked away from that crazy ape.

I figured I learned enough of beer pong by watching. I made my way to what seemed was the challenger's side of the table. The electric socket girl standing next to me was all wobbly and giggly, and I immediately concluded that we were going to lose.

"Alright!" The electric plug man announced to the whole room, which had nearly become as packed as the foyer and dance floor. "We've gotta fourth! Pirate chick!" Everyone cheered as I smiled sheepishly. I cringed, watching people refill cups on the table.

"Ladies first." He handed the ping pong ball to his girlfriend. "Here you go, sweetie."

She stumbled back and threw the ball, which bounced right off the table. I shook my head as the crowd snickered. Her boyfriend retaliated with a bounce of his own that landed in a blue cup filled with Stoli. The crowd roared as socket chick hesitantly brought the cup to her lips. She took one sip and then bolted for the door to blow chunks in the backyard.

"I guess we lose." I shrugged

"No no no! You'll just have to pick up the slack for your team," he said so smugly.

"I don't know about that." I cringed. "Shouldn't you be taking care of your girlfriend anyway?"

"She'll walk it off."

"Come on!" Wobbly Luigi spoke up. "Think of it this way: you're representing womankind! Show us what you've got!" The crowd roared, finding reason in his inebriated taunts.

I never back down from a challenge. With determination, I took the ping pong ball and threw a fastball right into a blue cup of Jager. Beginner's luck! But, the electric plug downed it like water. Luigi bounced the ball and missed terribly.

After fifteen minutes of misses and beer chugs, the crowd started to get distracted by people doing keg stands a few feet away. I felt a little buzzed after the two cups of Patrόn and one cup of Jager. The table looked pretty even on both sides, red cups still full. One more fastball into a Stoli cup took drunken Luigi out for the remainder of the game. Electric plug guy started to look as buzzed as me. I tried my best to look as sober as a nun. It probably worked since I heard someone else tell the plug guy, "dude, she's still standing! Get the red cup."

With one quick toss, he threw the ball right into the red cup as if it were his job. Everyone roared in amazement, now diverting their attention away from the keg as I shot the Everclear. They were even more amazed to see me still standing without a wobble or a flinch. I carefully tossed a bounce and watched the ball clank against a clear cup and fall into the blue cup of Patrόn. Everyone cheered again at my nearly perfect throw as he picked up the cup. He cringed and shot the tequila. Moments later, I saw him convulse and yack into the sink.

"Girls win!" A group of girls in Hooters uniforms jumped up and down. "You go girl!" They congratulated me.

The men of the crowd clapped and cheered, still in awe. I turned towards the living room and stumbled my way through, looking for my friends. I could feel the Everclear creeping up on me as I trudged up the stairs. Everything seemed squinty and blurry. I saw bunnies with their cotton tails all up against their dates' crotchular regions, people were making out against the walls and railings of the balcony, there were three-way make-out sessions happening on couches and what not… and all I could do was giggle at what looked like a low-budget orgy. Making my way down the steps was easier said than done. But I still couldn't find my friends. Maybe they got lucky.

I decided to sit out on the porch and enjoy the cool night… and my growing buzz. It didn't bother me that, at the time, I hadn't found a guy worth getting to know. But that was all about to change…

"Pirate chick!" I heard someone yell from the door. The electric plug guy slowly made his way to one of the empty lawn chairs situated across from me. He sipped from a water bottle and often cleared his throat, looking at me inquisitively.

I slouched back lazily. "I'm druuuuunk."

He bellowed in laughter. "Can I get you some water?"

"Nah, it's cool." I looked around and started to feel my buzz take over. "Where's your girlfriennnd?"

"Oh she's probably out back, sleeping it off." He smirked and drank more water. "Wait, how'd you know she's my girlfriend?"

"Kinda obvious." I lazily pulled myself upright after nearly falling off the side of my chair. He seemed quite entertained in just watching me balance myself on a pretty sturdy lawn chair, which at the time seemed to be wobbly as hell.

"What's your name?"

"Ssssspencer," I firmly nodded with such conviction.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer," he reached out and shook my hand. "I'm Donovan. Donny for short."

"Like Donny Osmond?" I giggled like a goober.

"Yeah… no." He sipped more water. "So… good game in there, Spencer."

"Good? It was GREAT!" I threw my hands in the air. "I beatchuuu." I waved my finger in his face. "Both of you!"

"Hey now! That was our second round of beer pong. You had a head start on us."

"Excuses, excuses."

"Whatever you say," he scoffed. "What're you doing out here by yourself anyway?"

"I dunno." I shrugged, starting to find it difficult to hold my head up. "Just getting some air. I think my friends bailed on me." I felt myself get drowsy and oddly content with just sitting in that chair, not even considering how I was getting back to the dorms. I shut my eyes for a second.

"Spence, don't fall asleep here." He gently shook my knee.

My eyes jutted open when I heard someone stampede through the front door. It was the girlfriend… and she didn't seem too happy to see her boyfriend with his hands on me.

"Sar—"

"DONOVAN! What the HELL are you doing?!" She glanced my way and gave me a snooty look. _"Who the hell is this skanky ass?"_

"Excuuuuuse me?" I glared back at her.

"Mind your business, instead of being all up in mine! I'm talking to my_ boyfriend!_"

"You forgot to check your attitude at the door when you checked your coat." I snapped back.

"Sarah, calm down. It's not what it seems." He stood to face her, knowing well enough that she was too intoxicated and infuriated to think rationally.

"Oh?" She bobbed her head and crossed her arms with such attitude. "So you _didn't_ just leave me all passed out with Ryan so that you can run off and talk to some girl?"

"You're over your head, babe."

"Take me home," she pouted, finding herself on the brink of having an emotional outburst… which was odd because I thought she was already having one.

"Sure," he made his way towards the door to get his belongings inside, "as long as we can take Spencer home, too."

Sarah was infuriated.

Needless to say, we got started off on the wrong foot. She eventually got over the issue and was able to open up to me as a friend, though I sometimes get the feeling that she's jealous over my closeness with Donny. But neither of us can help it. He's always been such a great friend to me. Always looking out for me since day one.

"Four seventeen is your total." Donny's voice sounded from outside as I heard someone ruffling for change. "Can I get your name?"

"Ashley."

Hmm...

Wait… what?!

I immediately jumped up, but didn't realize I was sitting on the floor way too long. My foot fell dead asleep. I lost my balance and tried to grab onto the shelves.

Bad idea.

I forgot Charles, our cheapo boss, purchased those flimsy metal racks he got on sale at Costco… and never secured them against the wall. So what happened was I pulled the entire rack down towards me and watched as it fell over like a big tree chopped at its trunk. It didn't occur to me until what seemed like hours later that I was about to get crushed by this massive thing. So I (barely) dove out of the way, but not before one of the corner beams had hit me upside the head.

I lay there with this stinging sensation from my forehead, my ears ringing from all the clatter and commotion.

"Spence, what the hell happened?!" Donny rushed to my side.

"So you heard, huh?" I covered my face in embarrassment.

"And we kinda caught the show." Another voice filled the small storage space.

"Maybe I can file for worker's comp or something." Maybe I _am_ nothing more than a disease-toting, illiterate klutz.

"Don't move!" Donny noticed me trying to get up. I looked at him strangely. "You might have a concussion or something."

"That's not likely. She doesn't exhibit any symptoms." Ashley shrugged. "Just a bump on the head."

"Hello?" Another customer's voice echoed from outside. Donny jumped to his feet, uncertain on whether he should attend to me first.

"Go. I'll be fine."

"Okay, uh…" he turned to Ashley, "you seem to know what you're talking about with concussions and all. Can you help her up and make sure she's okay?" He was already out the door before she could protest. Her eyes then panned towards me. And she stared at me with her arms tightly crossed and with such hesitation… much like how an inexperienced parent would stare at a waling baby, trying to figure out how to appease the darn thing.

Except… I'm not waling… and I'm no baby!

"I'm fine." I sat up and brushed coffee beans and sugar packets off of me. When I attempted to get up, I felt strong yet gentle arms lift me upright.

"Um…" She continued to stare at me, as if she couldn't figure out what Donny meant by making sure I was okay.

"I'm fine." I said a little more assertively as I straightened and patted down my apron. "Don't worry about it."

I walked up the stairs to Charles' office, grabbing the first aid kit above one of the filing cabinets and setting it down on a chair in front of a mirror by the door. I noticed a thin line of blood trailing from a quickly-forming bump at the corner of my forehead.

Footsteps slowly approached and there she was, leaning into the doorway. Her eyes danced around the room before quickly glancing in my direction. I started to get suspicious. Does she know that I know?

"Can I help you?" Awkward silence persisted as she continued to stare at me, my eyes fixed on the first aid kit as I removed a disinfectant cloth from its tiny package. I was still grouchy over our last encounter when she practically accused me of having the swine flu.

"You should be more careful." Umm… okay, thanks?

"Really… I'm okay!" I unconsciously flailed my arms, which only caused some of the box's contents to scatter onto the floor. I was about to pick them up when I noticed her advance.

"Are you always this strung up?" She grabbed the small cloth from my hands.

"No… not always." I jeered defensively, still confused as to what she was doing here.

"Must be that weird sickness you've got." Ashley furrowed her eyebrows. Her tone was soft, but her words were insulting. It was hard to tell whether she was being serious or not, since she didn't bolt for the door.

"Ha-ha." I mocked mundanely.

"Shh… hold still." Ashley gently dabbed at my cut. It stung, but I never flinched. I stood still like she asked me to, just staring into those brown eyes that seem to draw me in. They're so dark. So empty.

I watched as she attempted to rip the band-aid out of its packet. At this time, I figured she just felt obliged to do what Donny told her to… not because she actually wanted to.

"I got it." I snatched it out of her hands. "After all, I wouldn't want you to catch anything from me." I huffed sarcastically as I looked into the mirror and aligned the band-aid over my cut. She remained silent. I noticed from the corner of my eye that she was staring at the blood-tainted disinfectant cloth in her hands. "What're you doing?!"

"Nothing." She looked up at me with such relaxed eyes before quickly tossing the cloth into the trash bin.

"Okay…?" I proceeded to throw away all the empty wrappers. Before I could clean up the mess on the floor, she broke the awkward silence.

"I guess you could say that vulnerability intrigues me."

"How so?"

"And not just yours, but people in general." She leaned against the wall, her brown curls falling lightly around her shoulders. "They cry, they sweat, they bleed. Everything's much more real because each moment can be the last. Doubts and fears and uncertainties of life exist… because of the certainty of death." She stared off into the distance. "It's fascinating."

I couldn't pinpoint the source of her brief, yet random monologue. And I think I'm just about tired of killing brain cells trying to figure her out…

"And what about you?" I stood right in front of her at close proximity. Maybe it'd help me read her? I don't know. It's worth a shot.

"What _about_ me?"

"Aren't you 'people' too?" Yes, I used air quotes.

"Well… yeah." I could tell she was caught off guard with my apparent intrusion. "I'm just saying." She shrugged.

"Saying… what exactly?" She looked at me like a madwoman. And I'm pretty sure I know why – my eyes were wide and bulging out in my failed attempt to intimidate her like those FBI agents do in their interrogations.

"I don't know. I figured I'd share a random thought that relates to that speech you made in Weihmeier's class about clinging onto the concept of death when there is no tangible answer to it other than the fact that it simply happens. Figured I'd incite your opinion, but never mind." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Are your eyes okay?"

"Yeah," my eyes returned to normal size, panning down to my feet as I frowned in slight disappointment, "they're fine."

"Alright, well," she backed herself into the hallway, "I gotta get going. I'll see you around." Her words were quick and soft.

I shook my head, feeling like a complete fool because A) maybe I _am_ reading too much into this and B) the espresso shots were really starting to give me the jitters…

But secret option C) says _I'm_ not crazy! I know what I saw… drunk driver + seemingly normal Ashley = really bad accident. But for some reason, drunk driver + seemingly normal Ashley = seemingly normal Ashley + hospitalized drunk driver and wrecked car + crazy Spencer. Just doesn't add up right. I knew algebra would be useful for something.

I ran down the steps in such haste and looked around. She grabbed her coffee and left. Then I heard the backdoor slam shut.

I practically flew out the back and let the spring door shut itself. Felt like I was possessed by the caffeine because I really didn't know what I was going to say when I saw her…

And I did see her. She wasn't too far, but she was making her way down the alley pretty quickly.

"Do you, uh," she stopped and turned her head in my direction as I breathed heavily, "do you know what happened out there on that street?" I gestured.

She turned completely around, her left hand resting in her pocket. Ashley took a deep breath as to brace herself for something. I'm not sure what.

"No," she let out a sigh, "care to enlighten me?"

"I was hoping you'd tell _me_." I blurted, still catching my breath.

"I'm not following."

"Stop playing stupid with me, Ashley." I took a few steps closer, lowering my voice. "I saw you last night… on the street." I took a moment to observe her body language. But she surprisingly remained unmoved. "What the hell happened? How are you still—"

"Alive?"

I sighed in a moment of gratefulness that she wasn't denying it at least. "Yeah."

"Just a miracle I guess." She shrugged.

"Oh come on," I rolled my eyes, "really? I could've sworn you were pummeled by a speeding drunk driver and hurled into the air a few yards, only to violently collide with the scathing pavement… and you walked away from it without a scratch. That's more than just a miracle, don't you think?"

"What's it to you anyway?" She sipped her coffee.

"I _need_ to know."

"Why?"

"So I know I'm not crazy."

She shrugged.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"I have no reason to." She scoffed, but calmly spoke in a straightforward manner. "I don't trust anyone but myself anyway."

"So," I sighed in exasperation, "what are you? Are you even human?"

"Of course I am." She laughed again and looked at her watch. "Anyways, I gotta get going. Nice talking to you." I watched as she walked towards the parking lot. "Oh," she turned briefly, "don't forget to ice that thing so it doesn't swell for too long. It might prolong your craziness." She twirled her finger at the side of her head, mocking me shamelessly.

"Yeah, whatever," I jeered. "Don't choke on your hodge-podge." That's as good of a comeback as I got… and sad to say I had to think really hard for that. After all… how much can someone diss a perfectly indestructible human being?

As I approached the backdoor, I noticed something gleaming from the corner of my eye. I looked to the left. And lo and behold, everything I ever needed to substantiate my craziness was sitting right there, perched on the corner of the café and facing the intersection…

The surveillance camera.


	7. Chapter 7: Entropy

**_Happy Kwanzaa, Hanukkah and Christmas everyone! Hope you are all enjoying your holidays with nothing but great people and happy tummies :) I'm trying to get the ball rolling on this, especially since this and next chapter are filler chapters. Chapter 9 should be interesting... if the plot flows according to plan. And I'm trying SUPER hard to update as quickly as I can since 2010 is undoubtedly going to be busy for me and I fear I may not update as often as I'd like to :(_**

**_Okay, so... I LOVE YOU GUYS... ALL of you, whether you read/subscribe/review/drink coffee! I want to make individual shouty shouts, but this AN might be longer than the chapter. To sum up, as Lalalalee said, I do owe you guys! So I will do my uber best to try and stick around like saltwater taffy in your teeth. THANK YOU for all the support! _****_And thank you, lil grasshopper and Joce for beta-ing! _**

**_Enjoy! :) 12.26.09_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters._**

* * *

I honestly didn't know how much of the scene was caught on camera… or if it had caught anything at all.

Every day at 8 AM, the morning crew is responsible for changing out the 24-hour DAT surveillance tape in the recorder sitting next to Charles' filing cabinets. He has 7 tapes clearly labeled for each day of the week. When the tapes are in use for that specific day, they overwrite the recording from the week prior. That's cheapo Charles for ya… too cheap to buy the computerized recorders so that things are documented for longer. He figured no one would be interested in robbing a café anyway.

I switched in the Tuesday tape and placed the Monday label onto a blank tape before putting yesterday's tape in my purse. Donny and Aiden are the ones who usually work the recorder on my morning shifts. I'm sure Donny wouldn't mind the least that I've done it for him.

"What happened down here?" _"I am _so_ calling Charles!"_

I jumped, hearing Jenna's voice echo from down the steps. I looked over and saw her making her way over the mess with a look of disbelief.

"Had a little accident." I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. I even unconsciously folded my hands behind my back like a 5-year-old with a burning secret.

"A _little_ accident?" _"Oh believe me, firing you won't be an accident."_ "Spencer, I hardly call that—" Her look of disbelief turned into slight concern when she saw me and my fancy face accessory. "Are you okay?" Jenna walked up the steps slowly.

When you work in a café, no one expects you to dress up like you're working for Wall Street, not even Charles. But as the assistant manager, Jenna felt it necessary that she establish herself as a serious professional, seeing as how she was older than us by only a few years... and shorter than us by a few inches. Needless to say, the title gave her quite an ego boost. She mainly worked behind the scenes in Charles' office, occasionally coming down onto the floor to briefly boss us around.

"Yeah," I tried to nod it off nonchalantly, "I'm fine. The beam just caught me on the way down."

"Really? The racks just came tumbling down on you?" She squinted in speculation. "That's never happened before."

"Well, the racks aren't secured to the wall," I attempted to convince her, "and most of the items were placed on the higher shelves, making the whole thing unbalanced." I said as much as I could to cover my own ass, seeing as Jenna had her brown nose list… and I wasn't on it.

"Hmm," she contemplated. _"Bullshit."_ "Well, that's unfortunate."

That's _unfortunate?_ What kind of… who _says_ that?!

Her medium-length red hair swung around her shoulders as she walked back down the steps and asked Donny about it. I walked down into the storage to grab some ice from the ice maker.

Jenna's quite the crazed bitch. Aiden told me that the morning shift from Sunday caught her going ape shit over the fact that someone blew chunks right by the backdoor. (Whoops!) Charles came in later that day, and even he had to calm her down.

"Yeah," I heard Donny blending a drink as he spoke with Jenna, "she was taking stock and it just toppled over."

"And you were…?"

"Attending to a customer." He calmly replied. "Maybe you can talk to Charles about those shelves?" For some reason, she always believes Donny's words over mine. He might as well be her boss since she'll practically do anything he asks her to. Probably because of her insane crush on him… and her sexual fantasies of doing him on the countertops.

Donny would be so cocky if he knew.

"Spencer?" She poked her head into the stock room.

"Hmm?"

"How are you feeling?" Jenna plastered on a smile. Donny seems to be the only one who can change her mood by just talking to her. Ugh.

"I'm feeling alright." I gently placed the ice bag on my forehead. "I can work." My smile was just as fake.

"Sorry about the accident." I appreciated her apology, but she really sucks at faking sincerity. "I'll talk to Charles about installing secured shelves, and I'll ask the night shift not to stack heavy items on the tops." _"You better _not_ file for workers comp!"_

"Thanks."

"In the meantime, just… take stock of what we need to reorder and see if you can tidy this up a bit." She gestured to the mess as if I was her personal servant or something.

"Yup." I grabbed the dustpan as she trudged up the steps.

_Bzzzzzzzz._ _Bzzzzzzzz. _

I reached into my pocket and grabbed my cell. I got a text from Madison…

**4got to mention… m.a.c sale! come by after work during my lunch. i set aside the usual.**

I replied… **yay! c u then!**

Madison always sets aside the liquid eyeliner and mascara I love. She is _the best_ roommate… ever!

Shift went by faster than I had expected. My body ached from being so damn tired and even my eyes were starting to burn. But I had my caffeine fix every chance I got. I spent the majority of the morning helping Donny cover the floor until the rush hour ended around 10. I then spent the rest of my shift "tidying up" the mess I made in the storage room. Come 2 o'clock, I was ready to call it a day.

"Hey loser," I teased Donny, "Enjoy washing down for the second shift." I mockingly chortled before making sure I had everything in my purse, surveillance tape included.

"Yeah, well," he quickly wiped the countertop before looking up at me, "at least I'm not the goober with a _Hello Kitty_ band-aid on my forehead."

Yeah, yeah… whatev—

"Wha?" His words sank in as I furrowed in shock. I reached in my purse for my compact and took a quick look, gasping at the discovery. How could I have missed that?! "Ugh," I scrunched my face and combed my bangs over the colorful band-aid, "I'll catch you later, Donny."

"Later, Spence." He snickered.

The afternoon was brisk and gloomy. You could tell the sun was trying to shine from behind those clouds… or was that the LA smog? The ground was wet from the morning drizzle. I walked as quickly as I could back to my apartment, hoping it wouldn't rain anytime soon.

When I got home, I was nearly deafened by the barrage of machine gun noises. I leaned over and saw Aiden completely engulfed in his little _Halo_ video game, energetically mashing on a combination of buttons on the game controller.

"Hey Aiden."

"Pwned, bitch!" He laughed. He definitely had on his game face, headset on and everything. "That's what you get for camping out, asshole!"

"Whatever, dickwad!" I heard a little boy's voice from the television speaker.

"Shouldn't you be playing _Lego's_ with your babysitter?" Aiden taunted.

"Your mom's my babysitter!" I giggled at the ballsy kid who barely sounded five.

"Am I interrupting?" I stifled my laughter, placing my keys on the countertop.

"Oh," Aiden quickly glanced my way, "hey Spencer." His tone was serious. He was definitely in gamer mode.

The button mashing commenced and I decided to go about my own business. I really don't know why Madison caved when Aiden begged to keep his Xbox here. He said he didn't want any of his roommates messing with his gamer stats or whatever.

I walked passed the commotion and into my bedroom, quietly shutting the door, though it was unnecessary. It sounded like a loud exchange of lasers and machine gun cavalry outside my door. I placed my purse down and fished through my closet for my old camcorder. Geez, I haven't used that thing since my filmmaker phase in high school. It's the only thing I've got that's still old enough to play DAT tapes, but new enough to hook up to the film editing program on my laptop.

Once I had everything hooked up, I rewound hours of normal footage taking place after the supposed incident happened. I saw footage of the cops arriving and the paramedics extracting the driver from the smashed car. Then, I saw a quick snippet of the drunk driver speeding out of control.

I leaned in closer as I rewound the tape to seconds prior to the car careening through the scene. I could see a clear shot of Ashley strolling down the sidewalk before…

"Hey, Spencer?"

"Hmm?!" I simultaneously jumped and shut my laptop. "Geez, Aid! You snuck up on me."

"Sorry," he smiled. "I knocked but I guess you were—" he pointed to my laptop before pointing to my head, "what happened to your head?" My eyes diverted to the upper corner as if that would help me see what he was talking about. "And what's with the _Hello Kitty_?"

"Oh, that?" I covered it with the palm of my hand. "Storage shelves fell down on me."

"Holy shit." His jaw dropped, "really?"

"But, no worries! I'm—"

"Is the inventory okay?" His shocked expression turned into concern. "You didn't spill any coffee beans did you?"

"I did. But thanks for your concern, asshole!" I teased him back and slapped him on the arm, knowing he was joking. "It was touch and go for a minute there, but I made it out alive."

"But you cleaned it up before Jenna got there, right?"

"Sadly, no. The wicked witch came to work early."

"Ugh." He leaned against the doorframe. I could still hear the music playing from his video game.

"She's got it in for me, I tell ya. I know she's scheming to get me fired. She was gonna tattle on me to Charles if I didn't have Donny to back me up."

"No doubt." He smirked. "Donny's your 'Get Out of Jail Free' card when it comes to Jenna." Aiden knows as well as I do that Jenna's got a thing for my dark-haired best friend. The only one oblivious to it is Donny. I mean seriously… how'd he land a girl like Sarah who played with his head before they were exclusive, if he can't even take a blatant hint from our supervisor that the only thing separating her from devouring him whole is sexual harassment?

"Yup. Story of my life." I sighed. "So, how'd your econ midterm go?"

"Not too bad." He thought for a second before nodding with reassurance. "I think I did pretty well."

"Yeah?" I raised a brow. "Well that's good. I'm glad you got a lot of studying done."

"It wasn't easy. I had to really concentrate to read the girl's handwriting next to me."

"Aiden!" I scolded. "You cheated? After all I did to get your stupid econ book last night…"

"I… read the material." _"Kinda."_

I gave him an incredulous look.

"Okay, I skimmed the chapters and looked at all the bold words."

I sighed in exasperation.

"I'll study next test." He put on his puppy dog eyes and innocent smile.

"Yeah, right. Save it." I sat back down. "That only works on girls who like boys. Much less, boys like you."

"What does that mean?" He crumpled his eyebrows and pouted.

"Nothing," I laughed.

"Say, Spence?" He held up a red baseball cap. "Do you know who this belongs to?" It had _SDSU_ embroidered on it.

"Uh, err… uhm," I faked contemplation, "isn't that _your_ hat?"

"Real slick." Aiden remained unconvinced. "When was he here?"

I hesitated.

"I may not be a mind reader, but I'm not that oblivious." He paused. "When?" He asked more sternly.

"…Saturday."

"Saturday when he stopped by to see you?" His mind was spinning and I knew exactly where this was heading. "He was here with Madison, wasn't he?!" Again, I said nothing. "I can't believe her." He tossed the hat on my bed before grabbing his stuff, turning off the television and leaving.

Glen, you freakin' idiot!

I honestly don't know how Glen and I are blood-related. If anything, Clay seems more of a brother to me than my half-wit biological brother.

I quickly ripped off my band-aid and let my bangs tassel over the thin cut before glancing at the clock near my bed, glowing 2:41 PM. I better leave now, since there could be traffic down Santa Monica Boulevard to Beverly Hills. Madison takes her lunch at 3. Maybe I should warn her about Hurricane Aiden.

The drive to the Beverly Center was a slower one than I had anticipated. I don't know why a light sprinkle of rain on a gloomy winter day causes everyone to go 10 MPH slower than the speed limit.

When I pulled in to the parking garage and made my way to the _M.A.C_ store, I could see a line of people winding around the corner in front of _Louis Vuitton_ to the left, and a second line forming to the right extending as far back as the _Burberry_ store… and these were just the lines of people waiting to get _inside_. It was like the week before Christmas all over again!

Madison put the finishing touches on a young girl trying a look for her winter formal. I could see her working hard to sell cosmetics to the eager teen.

"The foundation looks _amazing_ on you." Madison's eyes lit up, although I knew it was all a part of her sales scheme. "It blends well with your skin tone and really makes your skin glow!"

"You think so?" Said eager teen batted her eyelashes in the mirror, admiring herself and agreeing with the compliments that were spoon-fed to her.

"Oh, absolutely!" Madison looked up and noticed me pushing my way through the crowd. "Hey! I'll be off in a few minutes."

I nodded, waiting patiently as she continued to throw her sales pitch. I browsed the new products they had in the primer and lip gloss sections, trying not to get pushed around like a ragdoll. Ooooh! Dazzleglass Crème in Soft Dazzle!

"Luckily," she turned to the teen, "the foundation's part of our 'Buy 2, Get 1 Free' special going on this week. It's also SPF 15 and includes a hint of aloe."

"Do you think you can put it on hold for me and I'll come back for it in a few hours?"

"Oh," Madison sighed, "I don't know. We've got a lot of customers today. I'm not sure we'll still have some by the end of the day."

"Okay, okay," the naïve teen jumped out of her seat, "I'll take three!"

"Excellent!" Madison grabbed a few more products off the shelf and handed them to the cashier. "She'll take care of you over here." She directed the teen over to the counter.

The teenager smiled. She seemed hesitant, thinking about how angry her mother would be if she found out she spent her week's worth of allowance on make-up.

"Hey," I smiled as Madison headed back in my direction. She had a look of relief, eager to take a break from the busy morning she's had. We pushed our way out of the store. "Sorry I was a tad late. Beverly Boulevard was a nightmare."

"Don't worry about it. Any sooner and you'd probably have to wait the extra time." She sighed in exhaustion. "I was trying to sell that girl for the past hour or so."

"Well it worked 'cause she totally ate up everything you were saying to her, especially about the products running out." I laughed as I followed her onto the escalator down.

"It's true! We run out!"

"But you restock the next day."

"Yeah well," she turned towards me, "the customers don't have to know _that_." Madison smirked. "Besides… she took forever and was about to deny me a sale. All that time for nothing."

"Take it easy on the poor girl. She blew her allowance on your sales crap." I smirked as she rolled her eyes. We took the stairs down to the _Grand Lux Café_ at the front entrance.

"I didn't _force_ her into it." She attempted to reason with me, though we both knew she peer pressured the teen.

"Whatever you say, you devil's advocate against the cosmetically challenged."

"Just remember who's hooking you up at _M.A.C._" And with that, she got the last word.

We walked into the dimly lit, chic café with its marble tiles and granite countertops, fancy table designs, and elegant lighting. Hard to believe the food is as affordable as it is! We were seated immediately and placed our usual orders: a Sonoma Salad for Madison and a Grand Club Sandwich for me.

"So… spill it." I sipped my water.

"Spill what?" Madison questioned as she furrowed her eyebrows at her _Blackberry_. She scrolled her text messages, reading one in particular from Aiden. "What is Aiden whining about now?" Madison voiced her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" I was half concerned, half curious.

"He texted me 'you're unbelievable.'" She finally looked up, still seemingly confused.

"Maybe he meant it as a compliment."

"Pshhh… yeah right. Are we talking about the same Aiden?" She put her phone away. "We both know Aiden only gives compliments when he wants something." Ah… very true. "Anyways, what do you want me to spill?"

"Glen came over."

"And?"

"And… what the hell were you guys doing for six hours?"

She blushed. "N-nothing." _"Na na na na, blah blah blah blah…"_

"Stop thinking nonsense." My look of incredulousness turned into contorted expressions of disgust. "Eww, what did you guys do?"

"Nothing!" She diverted her eyes. _"Just… made out."_

"You did _what?!_" Oh… there go my bulging eyeballs again. "With Glen?! You cheat—"

"Okay," Madison gestured me to shut it, "I did _not_ cheat on Aiden. Kissing is _not_ cheating." She shrugged. "Besides… he made the moves on _me_."

"Kissing _is_ cheating," I sneered at the absurdity of this argument we were having, "regardless of who was making the moves."

"It's only cheating if I'm hooking up with a guy I have deep-seated feelings for." She continued to reason with me. "And Aiden knows that about me."

"Yeah, but this was with Glen."

Did I mention Madison and Aiden have this twisted relationship? If kissing is _not_ cheating, then Madison's only cheated on Aiden 1 and a half times (the half time being with a guy she met at our high school Grad Night at _Disneyland_; it was more than kissing, less than sex, and on the Haunted House ride. Get my drift?). But if kissing _is_ cheating, and someone became employed for each time Madison's cheated, then the recession would be over… ten years ago.

And the story goes both ways. Aiden's number of mischievous make out sessions is equivalent to the Texas population. The two of them get pissed at each other for a bit, but take each other back because the reason is always the same: there were no romantic feelings felt while the perpetrator was committing the cheating crime. It was all superficial and platonic. So they say.

The one time Madison completely cheated on Aiden was on a senior trip we took with about thirty people to Rosarito. Aiden didn't go. His family took him to Europe as a graduation gift instead. Madison was horny. My idiotic brother happened to be within the vicinity. And the rest is one drunken cheatfest with nothing but tequila and sombreros. I happened to witness it in my own inebriation… I'm talking about the drunken debauchery that spurred them on, NOT the behind-closed-doors bit… eww!! On the bright side, it wasn't like Madison was adding notches to her belt; she was just having her own sloppy seconds. And I think that's what gets to Aiden: Glen and Madison have a romantic past. All the no-namers that Madison's made out with don't bother him as much as Glen. After that incident, he swore never to trust Madison alone with Glen ever again.

To this day, Madison denies having feelings for Glen. But I kinda know better. Her thoughts betray her sometimes.

The waiter brought out our meal and our conversation was momentarily lost as both of our mouths watered with hunger.

"Aiden will get over it. There's no spark between Glen and I." She shrugged as she sifted through her salad. "We were just… having fun."

"Yeah, but," I neatly folded my napkin into my lap, "would you get over it if he did the same thing with Sasha and told you there was no spark?"

She stopped to give me a hard glare.

Sasha's the ex who Aiden lost his virginity to back when he was an eager pubescent. Aiden tried to play it off as a typical hormonal jock, but the truth of the matter is that he fell for her… hard. Long story short, she broke his heart and his ego. He set on a conquest to sleep with as many girls as he could in high school (Madison included) to crown himself "the man" amongst his jock friends… when really it was a desperate attempt to get over Sasha and make her want him again. It worked and they started hooking up again. But by then, she fell for him and he only did it to prove to himself that he could sleep with her and not feel emotionally connected. We blame Sasha for making Aiden the way he is. Anyways, after Aiden found out Madison cheated on him with Glen, he immediately went for the anger bang with Sasha. Needless to say… shit hit the fan.

Once college happened, things settled. But I feel things are about to get rocky again.

"I'd kill him if he did." She paused. "_Then_, I would get over it."

"Yeah, okay. The point is… I'm right. Kissing is cheating." I think I make a valid point, especially coming from the victim's end of an affair. I munched on some fries as she quietly nibbled on her salad. "You're lucky she moved to Michigan."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes at me. "How did Aiden find out anyway? Did you tell him?"

"You think I would instigate drama?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "Glen, the freakin' idiot that he is, left his _SDSU_ hat in the living room."

"Dumbass."

I honestly don't know what she sees in him. I think I asked her once and she couldn't give me a straightforward answer. Her mind just flooded with all this mushy gushy crap my brother did for her in his sad attempt to be such a romantic when they dated in high school. I think she likes that he at least tries… compared to Aiden who's as callous as a rock most of the time.

Our luncheon progressed on to lighter topics, mainly us trading barbs on work and school. When the bill comes, I pick up the tab. Madison nearly scratches my arm off for it, but I tell her I got this one since she's hooking it up with the discounts anyway.

"Can you do me a favor and grab me some Dazzleglass Crème, too?" I asked kindly, signing off on the receipt.

"Sure. What tint?"

"In Soft Dazzle."

She contemplates for a split second before her eyes light up, "ooh, that would be such a good color on you!" Oh, my roommate, the cosmetologist. You know how some people are just super talented at visualizing everything, like Miss Cleo or kids who can picture the next 5 moves in a chess match? Madison's got serious talent in matching cosmetics to any skin tone and type, even before applying them. It's a wonder why she hasn't already taken over _Paul Mitchell_ and renamed it after her.

Well, okay… not _that_ big of a wonder. Attending _Paul Mitchell_ is on her agenda, after she pleases her parents by getting her bachelor's. They don't even care what she majors in, even if it is sociology. All they want is for their daughter to finish her years as a Bruin so they can have something to brag about to friends and family.

"Thanks for lunch."

I handed the portfolio to our passing waiter. "It's the least I can do for—"

"No, I mean," she interrupted, "for hanging out with me. I feel like we haven't hung out in a while."

"I know. It's been busy with midterms and all. But we should do this more often." I smiled sincerely.

"Definitely." Madison glanced at her watch and I took that as our cue to get up. "You still have to update me on your date last night with that Liz girl. I'd really like to meet her sometime."

"You probably will." I nodded reassuringly as we walked out of the Grand Lux. A smirk spread across my face, and I'm not sure how that happened. It wasn't until I saw Madison eyeing me like a goober that I realized it. "What?"

"Must've been one hell of a date." She wiggled her eyebrows, wanting to inquire further but keeping time in mind.

"It was alright." I pursed my lips, failing ever-so-perfectly at hiding any form of a smile.

"Suuure," she retorted, unconvinced, before hugging me goodbye. "Catch you later. Thanks again!"

"No problem." I said with a small chuckle as I turned to walk down the sidewalk. Luckily, the rain had ceased and I didn't have to worry about finding an umbrella. But I wanted to get on my way since traffic was really starting to build up.

"_God dammit, Ashley!"_

A spiteful thought whisked by.

I stopped and suddenly turned to see where this was coming from. Coincidence? Nothing's coincidental about that strange girl. Something in the tone of that thought made it all too familiar. And somehow I knew it was about the same Ashley.

I looked from face to face, trying to find the source. It wasn't until I looked at the back of a blonde head, hastily rounding the corner, that my legs started to speak for themselves and quickly followed. I swear Donny's nosiness has rubbed off on me.

She was talking on the phone, her tone sounding so abrupt and frustrated. I inconspicuously followed her into _Victoria's Secret_, where we were both greeted separately. I nonchalantly looked at the panties on sale, keeping a close, but subtle distance from the blonde. She paced around the _Pink_ pajamas section as I stole glances here and there, my ears perked and my mind listening.

"Ash, pick up the fucking phone!" She whispered, though I was in audible distance. And then I realized… she was the same blonde from _The Pit_ who was throwing herself at Ashley last night. "You owe me an explanation! Call... me... the fuck… back!" She sighed in contempt before throwing the phone into her purse. For a second, I pondered on whether she knew what Ashley's deal was. Maybe she saw her get hit by the drunk driver, too?

No, she would probably be more concerned than angry. I couldn't pick complete sentences out of her thoughts. Just a lot of cuss words and something about a text from Ashley… and something about Portland. I'm not sure how long I had been standing there, frozen with a pair of red panties with white heart print propped in my hand. I must've been idle for a while, since one of the sales ladies felt it was best to approach me, thinking I had a question.

"Finding everything okay?" Her chipper voice interrupted my train of thought.

"Yes, thank you." I shot her a smile and dropped the red panties, pretending to sift through the pile.

"Okay, well," that deep shade of red lipstick perfectly framed those pearly whites, "my name is Shannon if you need anything." We nodded at each other before she turned and greeted another customer, her low ponytail swaying across the broadness of her back.

I turned my head to where blondie was, thinking I was sneaking glances, but we made eye contact and I immediately looked away. She thought nothing of it, of course, until our eyes met again. I reached for some _Pink_ sweatpants behind me, pretending to decide whether or not I should purchase them. When I turned again, she was gone. I put the sweats back on the rack before walking further into the store, gazing around to see where she'd gone. She couldn't have left that quickly.

I shuffled my way around the mannequins sporting the new wonder bras and matching colored panties when I caught those grayish blue eyes staring me down. With nothing in hand, it really looked like I was stalking her.

"_What?!"_ She thought as my eyes panned to the ground. "Hey!" She waved me down, but not in a friendly way.

"Hmm?" I played dumb.

"Can I _help_ you?" I couldn't blame her for the rudeness. I'd hate it if I was being followed by a complete stranger with stalkerish tendencies.

"Nope," I quickly grabbed one of the wonder bras, "got what I need."

She thought of warding me off in some humiliatingly evil way, but stopped to rethink what my intentions might be. _Then,_ she started to look at me with flattery… thinking I was some sort of admirer. Pfffft!

"You know what?" Blondie said in such a buttery manner that made her voice as soft as Paris Hilton's, I thought I was about to puke. "Sorry I snapped at you. I'm a bit on edge. My girlfriend dumped me via text with no explanation." She pouted. Shit, I would dump her, too, if I was Ashley. Not even sure what she saw in blondie in the first place. She wears _way_ too much make-up, almost to the point of looking like a clown.

"Aww," I feigned sympathy, "I'm sorry to hear that." And then clever me thought of a clever plan… "I couldn't help but overhear you over there but—"

"Oh," she shook her head in interruption, "sorry you heard that."

"Were you talking about Ashley Davies, by any chance?" I continued, knowing she'd probably say yes. Her eyes glimmered with familiarity at the name before confusion crept in.

"Yeah, w-wait," she pointed at me, as I saw the wheels turning in her head, "you know _Ashley_? How do you know her?" Blondie squinted, shifting her weight and waiting eagerly for an explanation.

"She's my friend. Ash and I go way back." I crossed my arms and nodded. "We grew up together."

"So you're from Portland, too?"

"That I am." I smiled, trying not to look so… sheepish.

"She said she was moving back to Portland. She made no inclination if or when she'd come back." She stared off into the distance, starting to feel sad with the realization that she is officially single.

"Weird."

"Isn't it?"

"Well, that too, but it's weird she never mentioned you when we hung out." What? It's not like I'm lying. I felt a little guilty for adding to her agony, but I wanted answers. And I want them now! "How long have you guys been dating?"

"On and off for several months." She held her hand up to keep me from asking further. "It's complicated. You know Ashley… she's a whore." Clearly, the pot is calling the kettle black.

"That she is." I looked at her wide-eyed. This is not news to me.

"Well, I better get going. It was nice to meet you…"

"Spencer." I shook her hand, feeling a light scratch from her French manicure.

"Well, Spencer," she immediately started digging in her purse for something, "if you hear from Ashley," she pulled out an old receipt from some fast food restaurant and began scribbling something down, "tell her to call Yvette back." She handed the crumpled paper to me.

"Doesn't she already have your number?" I held onto the receipt without breaking eye contact.

"Or, you know, you can call me whenever, too." I could hear the flirtation in her voice.

Did that just happen?! Seriously. How is it that I totally blip on everyone's gaydar… when I'm supposedly the all-knowing mind-reader?

"Okay," I giggled, hoping I wouldn't burst into full laughter from the absurdity of the situation. Eww, how gross would that be if Ashley and I shared the same whore? Fortunately for me, I've got standards.

I walked out of the store towards the parking garage feeling… well… feeling a bunch of things. One, I felt dirty for Ashley's… whatever she is: girlfriend, whore, Yvette… for Yvette hitting on me. Two, I did not get the answers I was looking for… and it's not like I could've asked her to give me Ashley's number instead. And three, will there ever be some sense made as to what's on that surveillance tape?

When I finally got home after the traffic, I noticed our apartment was different. I froze in place, my eyes panning from side to side. I tried to visually map everything out in my head, but figured it out relatively quickly: Aiden's belongings were gone, Xbox included.

I tiptoed through the living room like a crime scene investigator, my eyes gazing down the hallway. Madison's bedroom door was wide open… and there was a massive hole in her now empty bulletin board above her desk. Whatever Aiden hit that thing with managed to put a hole through the wall as well. My eyes glanced downward and I noticed pictures of the two of them were torn and scattered on the floor of the hallway. On top of that, my bathroom door was missing its knob.

This is pretty bad.

Fighting, breaking up and getting back together is the normal process between these two. But destroying things? This is something I've never seen before.

I walked into my room and texted Madison about what I came home to.

So much has happened within the past 24 hours, I don't even know how to sort through it all. I sit at my desk and just let the stillness of my room wash over me. I'm feeling exhausted. The caffeine is wearing off.

_Bzzzzzzzz._ _Bzzzzzzzz._

I lazily look at my phone… **i told him. we broke up. told him 2 leave his key. did he?**

I don't know, nor did I feel like moving right now. I just sat there, staring at my laptop, blinking slowly as I contemplated sleep.

Mmm sleep.

My body must've been on auto-pilot because without thinking, I'd opened and turned on my laptop. I stared at the screen as I rewound and played the surveillance tape.

Slow motion.

She steps off the sidewalk, her gaze quickly darting towards the direction of the speeding vehicle.

She turns to face it head-on… with arms wide open.

And on impact, she is hurled across the intersection.

I squint and think with whatever brain power I have left. Was this an attempted suicide?


	8. Chapter 8: Satisfaction and Safety

**_Hey everyone! I haven't forgotten about ya. School has occupied my writing time, considering I've been required to write 16 papers of varying lengths this semester... argh!! But it's over... for now! ...And now I can post! Yay! So, I've had this chapter finished for 3 weeks now, but it wasn't up to par. My BRILLIANT Beta fixed it and without her, this chapter would've been total crap on which I would gladly puke. But, now I don't have to puke on it... So, THANKS RIVER! ;)_**

**_As mentioned in the previous AN, this is a filler chapter. Chapter 9 is MUCH more interesting and I'm excited to write it. It's 6 pages in and getting there! :D I'll be working on it and hopefully have it done within the next 2 weeks before summer session starts... *crosses fingers*_**

**_And THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to all of you for reading/reviewing and inspring me (each of you do)! _****_To answer some questions: Ashley is a robot... No, I'm joking! lol The mystery that is Ashley will eventually unfold itself. You know how I like to work this story slowly and torture you all ;) goshNyikes: Yvette's mind is pretty dense on nothing lol... so that's as far as Spencer's mind-reading abilities can go, considering Yvette's not one of Ashley's "regulars" (which will play out in the next chapter).. I hope this story doesn't dissapoint! If it does, let me know... I welcome all feedback! :) _**

**_Take care everyone! Enjoy! 5.2.10_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters. Song lyrics used in this chapter are from "Half Alive" by Secondhand Serenade._**

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"Following Monday's lecture, we will delve into the personality theories of Karen Horney." Dr. Steinhaus' voice echoed throughout the cold lecture hall. "That's right. It's pronounced _HORN-eye_, not _HORN-y_, for you wise-cracks out there." He elicited a quiet smirk amongst the audience.

I blinked hard, feeling the sting of sleep at the corner of my eyelids. Why is it that I never really feel rested?

My eyes panned down the rows in front of me as I slouched in my chair, snuggling into the warmth of my corduroy jacket. That same gamer nerd on his laptop was at it again, traveling to some place called the Outlands with his level 70 warlock in that World of Warcraft game. Seriously. This guy has way too much time on his hands.

Isn't it funny how there's no assigned seating in these huge lecture halls, yet most people tend to sit in the same seat… or at least in the same general area?

I glanced around discreetly, looking to see if Liz came to class. After how our date ended Monday night, I really didn't know if I'd see her again. Maybe I would and it'd be one of those awkward encounters where we avoid eye contact and arbitrarily scroll through our text messages, pretending we didn't see each other.

I put my pen down and closed my eyes, enjoying a little peace. This is as peaceful as things get in class, considering everyone's relatively brain dead at 8 AM. All I can hear is the sweet sound of my professor speaking, caffeinated students whose whispering thoughts are on the same wavelength as the lecture, and the distracted gamer nerd. Everything is relatively "quiet."

"Like Freud, Horney emphasized the idea that childhood experiences shape personality." Dr. Steinhaus continued. "However, she was different in that she used culture and social effects to explain differences in gender, as opposed to Freud's anatomical explanations. It is not pleasure that guides humans, but satisfaction and safety."

Indeed.

With my eyes closed, I noticed a shadow cast upon me and the subtle scent of vanilla, followed by the sharp aroma of espresso. I knowingly cracked a smile at the corner of my mouth.

"_Aww, she looks so cute with her eyes closed."_ "Morning." She whispered, placing a peppermint mocha latte on top of my notebook.

I opened my eyes as Liz grabbed her notebook. "You know, I'd hate to burst your bubble, but class starts at 8, not 8:15." I teased her, admiring how her dark hair contrasted with her white coat. "You missed out on a lot of interesting stuff!"

"Really?" She leaned back into her seat. "All that excitement put you to sleep, huh? Must've been something." I snickered.

"Thanks for the caffeine fix." I sipped its rich flavor. Ahh, perfect! It's not too hot. "You didn't have to."

"I know." Liz flipped to a blank page in her notebook. "But I wanted to. Besides… who else is going to keep you up?" She turned to me and grinned. _"Those eyes are just the highlight of my day."_ I blushed.

"I don't know. Maybe _that_ guy?" I nodded in the direction of the gamer nerd.

"Nah," she scrunched her nose and shook her head slightly, "I think I do a better job of grabbing your attention." I don't know if it was the caffeine or the fact that Liz was having a good day, but the confidence that she was exuding this morning was just completely sexy.

"I'll give you that one." I smirked, giving her knee a teasing squeeze. She shuddered slightly at the feel, her mind going berserk. I sipped my coffee, watching her from the corner of my eye as a smile spread wide across her face. It's nice to know I have that kind of effect on someone.

"So, I was thinking—"

"Ahem," Dr. Steinhaus glared at us with his hands on his hips, his right foot tapping the ground in aggravation. "You two need to step outside and finish your conversation. There is no room for it in my classroom." That was honestly the most energy he's had all morning. We sunk into the backs of our seats, trying not to look so embarrassed that the professor just called us out in front of everyone… for the second time this week.

"_Well, _fine_ then!"_ Liz reached for her pocket and started fiddling with her iPhone. I already knew what she was going to ask me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I nudged her softly before grabbing my phone out of my bag. **Anyways, before I was RUDELY interrupted.. do u have plans tonight?**

I replied… **Just hwk unless I get a better offer :)**

**Any chance u happen to like Secondhand Serenade?** I gasped.

**LOVE them!**

**They're playing at the House of Blues tonight. Wanna go?**

I set my phone down and feigned contemplation.

"_What is she doing? Was that too forward?"_ She gave me an uneasy look before texting me again. **Yes? No?**

**I'm debating. Really itching to do hwk tonight :P** She smirked. _"Ha! Okay."_

**What do I have to do to convince u?**

I grinned.** Oh idk. I'm sure u'll think of something.**

She pursed her lips to the side, nodding slightly. _"Okay, so it's woo-ing that needs to be done. I'm an excellent woo-er."_

I looked away to hide my quiet snicker. I managed to elicit a mean glare from Dr. Steinhaus before I cleared my throat and sat up in my seat, removing any remnants of giddiness.

"As I was saying," he turned to pace the stage, "competition in Western cultures fosters basic hostility which, in turn, creates basic anxiety, usually in the form of isolation and helplessness. Basic anxiety permeates all relationships and intensifies the need for affection. Of course, the exaggerated need for affection makes a person over-value love and feel desperate for it. This is what Karen Horney calls 'neurosis.'"

Makes me wonder if we're all a bunch of neurotics. Who _isn't_ desperate to feel loved and needed?

"Most psychological problems begin in childhood for neurotics. They were either abused, neglected or rejected, creating basic hostility even towards parents. When neurotics become parents, they are unwilling and/or unable to love their children due to their own neurotic needs to dominate, over-indulge, neglect, over-protect or reject others as a form of defense. This is the neurotic cycle that tends to prevail from generation to generation, under this personality theory."

Hmm… hits pretty close to home there. I think Karen Horney would've been able to write another book about neurotic personalities if she had known my mother.

I pretend not to notice Liz slip a note into my jacket pocket. Sad to say, but there's no surprising me.

Class went by relatively quickly, considering I wasn't paying attention. At least I know I can copy Liz's notes.

"Hey do you think I can borrow your notes from today's lecture?" she asked. "I don't think I got everything." …Or, I guess not.

I laughed, "That makes two of us. I suppose it wouldn't be smart if we studied together." She snickered.

"Well, we can't let that happen." She packed up her belongings and stood up. "That's what discussion is for. I'll take notes then… and you'll just _have _to study with me." She flashed me a cheesy grin.

"I _suppose_," I teased, "considering I don't wanna fail the next midterm." I lifted my backpack strap over my arm and stood to meet her gaze. "Or… I could go to my own discussion section and take notes myself."

She pouted slightly, "Where's the fun in that?"

"Well in that case," I leaned forward and kissed her cheek, causing her to blush profusely and lose all sense of reason, "I could tutor you."

She mumbled inaudibly and nodded simultaneously. It was cute seeing her bashful as hell.

"I better get going to Kerkhoff now. Talk to you later?"

She nodded, still unable to speak.

It wasn't raining today. So I managed to make it to Professor Weihmeier's class a few minutes early. The lecture hall was quickly filling up as I took a seat towards the back right side again. I started to wonder if I'd actually run into Ashley today, considering the possibility that maybe she was just lying to Yvette about Portland to avoid the ugliness of breaking up… or to avoid just the ugliness.

I looked around and from the corner of my eye, I saw a curly-haired brunette strolling across the way in my direction. But when I turned to look, I realized it wasn't her. Hmm… maybe she decided to ditch class today.

I reached for my notebook as a nicely tanned surfer type sat next to me in one of the last remaining seats in the hall.

"_Where the _hell_ did I put it?"_ He rummaged through his belongings. "Excuse me," he tapped my shoulder, "do you happen to have an extra pen I could borrow?"

"Sure," I gave him a closed-lip smile and reached down into my backpack.

"Hey," he did a double-take, "aren't you the one who spurred that crazy debate during the last class?"

I shook my head like it was no big deal… because it really wasn't. "Uh, I didn't—"

"Dude, I've never seen Weihmeier so _pissed_ before. He almost busted that vein in his forehead! It was awesome!" He smirked as I handed him my pen. "But, that shit about free will? That was some deep shit. Makes you think and shit." You can't imagine how _great_ it makes me feel to know that this supposed college student with very limited vocabulary managed to get into UCLA, too. Maybe he got lucky on the SAT's. "I mean, the only time I think that deep is when I'm high and shit." He smiled, thinking so highly of himself.

I smiled uncomfortably as I started to believe he was currently high.

"Wait," he gave me a serious look as if he discovered the cure to cancer, "are you a pothead, too?" What?!

I scoffed, "No!" I furrowed my eyebrows. Where does this kid come off acting as if we're buddies who share the same dealer or something?

"Sorry," he leaned back into his chair, "I just thought you might, since you're cool with Ashley."

"What?" I sounded less hostile. His thoughts brought me back to the time he met Ashley in the dorms and they'd smoke out together, sometimes having weed parties with half the dorm and having philosophical conversations about how the universe began.

"Davies is a major pothead. She's always spouting philosophy like she's Aristotle. And you talk just like her. I figured you guys seshed a lot."

"Seshed?"

"Yeah," he looked at me like I was weird, "seshed. As in 'had a smoke session.'"

"Sorry, I don't know the pothead lingo. And I barely know Ashley."

"She's fuckin' crazy. I dunno how she does it, but she never seems to get high."

"What do you mean?" I crossed my arms as I inquired.

"She smokes weed like she's chain-smoking cigarettes, and I've never actually seen her get high." Well, duh! She's impervious to everything… careening vehicles, whores, drugs. You name it! But it seriously boggles my mind how brilliant and well-traveled she comes off as. She's probably one of those rich kids who have too much money to give their own life some direction. Just another lost soul, if you ask me.

"Hmm." It wasn't that I wasn't interested in figuring Ashley out. But at the same time, my world doesn't (shouldn't) revolve around a one-night-kiss-and-run.

I turned and faced forward as Professor Weihmeier made his presence known at the front of the hall. He set his briefcase down and grasped the sides of the podium, squinting into the audience.

"_No Ashley Davies?"_ I guess I wasn't the only one looking for the brunette. His crude demeanor changed into a light-hearted smile. _"Good!"_ "Good morning, class! Today's topic will focus on the great debate between the _inevitable_ and the _unavoidable_, and how these concepts differ in a deterministic world, according to Dennett."

_Bzzzzzzzz._ _Bzzzzzzzz. _

I looked at my phone… **Check ur pockets.** Oh, I forgot about that! I reached into my pocket and unfolded the note. It read:

'_With every appearance by you, blinding my eyes, I can hardly remember the last time I felt like I do. You're an angel disguised.' _

_These lyrics sound better when sung. And music sounds better when it's live. And my nights are better when I'm spending them with you. So, will you go to the concert with me?_

I smiled and texted her back. **I've officially been woo'd. How could I say no to that? U've got urself a date ;)**

_Bzzzzzzzz._ _Bzzzzzzzz._ **:D pick u up at 6… don't fall asleep in class!**

The day just kept passing at warped speed, probably because all I could do was weigh out the pros and cons in figuring out whether I was ready to date again. Right now, things are safe between me and Liz. She's distracting me from wasting my life away, mulling over Melinda. She makes me laugh. I enjoy her company and we have quite a lot in common. We've only gone on one date. But soon, we'll have gone on several dates and she'll have expectations of me. She'll expect me to be ready to surrender my vulnerability to her by way of serious relationship. Because that's how this stuff usually goes, right?

Part of me is sad that she's not Melinda, as much of a bitch as Melinda was. She doesn't feel or talk or smell the way Melinda does. There were things about me that only Melinda would know or understand. Was I naïve to believe that a relationship as easy as ours was perfect, you know, before the cheating? Was it condescending of me to believe that our relationship was epic and any other relationship was incomparable, again, before the cheating?

I hate women. And by 'women,' I mean Melinda. She seriously messed me up.

My insides are screaming at me to give Liz a chance. But at the same time, I'm scared. I'm still wounded and I'd hate to pour salt in my wounds, hurt Liz somehow, or just screw us both over.

"Here's your pen back." My brunette neighbor stood before lifting his bag over his shoulders.

"Huh?" I looked at him as if I had just woken from deep sleep. Everyone in the classroom was packing and heading for the exits. I gazed at my phone and realized it was 10:50 already.

"Your pen?" He handed it to me. "Are you sure you're not a pothead?" I gave him the most dubious look. "Dude, I'm kidding. If you see Ashley, tell her Aaron says 'hi.'"

Whatever. Do I look like her personal assistant? What is it with everyone leaving me messages for Ashley?

I looked at my notebook and realized I hadn't written a single thing. Damn! I really need to get my head out of the clouds.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to catch up on reading, but it was completely pointless. Liz had totally invaded my mind and I couldn't help but feel extra giddy for tonight. I'd concluded that we'll just play things by ear and see where this goes. In all honesty, I'd probably thought way too much about this anyway. It's going to be a good night. Hot date. Secondhand Serenade. That's all I need to know for right now.

I know Liz didn't want to seem overeager, but I could hear her thoughts through my front door. She'd been standing out there for about five minutes before she decided to knock. I opened the door almost instantaneously. I smirked. There really is no surprising me.

"_Drool…" _She blinked before looking up. _"Shit! Hope she didn't see that."_ "Hey!" She smiled, and so did I, mainly because I'd caught her staring at my laced top which subtly exposed my cleavage. Yes, I dressed to impress. I just love fishing for compliments via mind-reading. They're the best kind, since they're candid and uncensored. Case in point.

"Hi," I responded, trying to hide my grin as my face had turned beet red.

"How was the rest of your day? Productive?" Hardly.

"Sure! I've just been doing a little homework since I got back from class." Emphasis on 'little.'

"_Damn! That makes one of us!"_ "Okay! Well that warrants a night filled with tons o' fun with yours truly." _"Did I just say _tons o' fun_?! Fail."_

I snickered slightly. "Definitely." I locked the door behind me and linked arms with her as she led me to her car.

On our drive over, we blasted Secondhand Serenade songs, grinning like little teenyboppers as we screamed lyrics out the windows and sun roof of her white Dodge Neon. I clenched my coat tightly, letting the evening breeze wash away my worries as I watched the sun slowly set below the purple haze of a sky.

Liz placed her hand on my headrest, glancing at me subtly as we were stopped at a red light. She smiled, relishing in this moment since she'd been looking forward to it all day. I know that feeling: wanting time to fly in anticipation for that special moment, and then wanting time to slow down the second it all begins just so you can memorize everything about it. I felt a little bad that I didn't feel I was at that level with her yet. She wants to swan dive right into this, when I'm still trying to get used to the feeling of just dating again.

I tried not to read into it so much. Just taking one moment at a time… especially because I'm not supposed to even be reading into this, at all! She didn't mean for me to know all of this about her. I really wish I could switch the mind-reading thing off sometimes.

Ignorance is bliss.

"What are you thinking about?" She continued to smile, not knowing the things I knew.

I smiled back in the most genuine manner I could possibly muster up, so as to avoid the deer-in-headlights look. "How _amazing_ this night is going to be!" I left it at that. I didn't want to lead her on, especially since Liz is such a thinker. She'll take everything I throw at her and analyze every part of it. I have to be careful.

The House of Blues on Sunset Strip was swarming with fans lined up to see Secondhand Serenade and the opening act, Cute Is What We Aim For. We passed time standing in that massively long line by picking up where we'd left off on our first date in our conversation about the type of music we each like.

"Fall Out Boy?" She blurted.

"Only their old stuff… before they got famous." I nodded in assertion.

"I know what you mean. I swear I was the first person to know about Maroon 5 before they became famous."

We took a few steps forward, following the relatively fast-moving line. "Have you ever heard of William Fitzsimmons?"

"Hmm, no I haven't. What kind of music does he play?"

"Various folk songs. His music really hits you like a ton of bricks. Kinda like that food-for-your-soul type."

"I see." She made a mental note to check his music out later. I'm appreciative that she's so open to my style of music. Melinda stuck to Top 40 and was never adventurous to listen to anything else.

Okay… enough about the ex…

"So, Secondhand Serenade sounds kinda like Dashboard, don't you think?"

Liz chuckled, "I've heard that before. Yeah, they sound similar, but I feel like Chris Carrabba's vocals can really hit those high notes. Either way, I like them both."

"Me too." I wrapped my arm around hers as I added this to a growing list of things I like about her. She's so easy to get along with.

When we got inside, Liz took the liberty of ordering me my favorite drink: Vodka Cran. She grabbed herself a Guinness and we made our way to the pit, which was already packed for the most part. It was hard to maneuver through without spilling our drinks, considering everyone was jumping and cheering as the curtain was drawn and Cute Is What We Aim For took the stage.

I've never really listened to their music before, and neither had Liz, but we were both enjoying everything the band had to offer. We squeezed into the back of the pit, leaning up against the banister that protected the sound tech equipment, and just swayed and nodded to the band's beats. I thoroughly enjoyed the refreshing ratio of vodka to cran that this place had to offer.

When the band's 7-song setlist was over, the crowd roared and we eagerly placed our drinks on the banister to join in the applause. I carefully took my coat off, as to not elbow my neighbors in this tight, cooped up space before draping it over the banister.

"What do you think?" She yelled over the boisterous crowd before following suit and placing her jacket next to mine.

"They're not bad." I responded audibly before sipping my drink and noticing the not-so-subtle way Liz glanced at me from head to toe.

"I'm really glad you decided to come with me tonight." Liz spoke in my ear, and I suddenly realized how loud concerts provided those perfect moments for close encounters.

"I'm really glad you decided to invite me." I bit the tiny cocktail straw before taking another sip of my drink. "I'm having a good time." I really was.

"Good." She smiled, holding her beer in one hand and gently placing her other hand against the small of my back. "So, how is it that someone as laid back as you is single?"

We hadn't gotten into this discussion on our first date. They say that's the cardinal rule on first dates: don't talk about the exes. The second date, however, is fair game… I guess.

"I just got out of a five-month long relationship." I said so matter-of-factly.

"That was quick."

"Yeah, well, long story short, she cheated on me." I immediately sipped my drink from the glass, throwing the straw out. She took the hint that I didn't want to go into details… not yet, at least.

"_Shit."_ "Really? I'm so sorry, Spencer!" Liz sympathetically rubbed my shoulder.

I shrugged. "It happens, I guess."

"Personally, I don't think anything else could ever make someone feel so betrayed. Trust me, I know."

"Yeah? What's your story?" I put her in the hot seat. "Why are _you_ single?"

"'_Cause I'm scared."_ She contemplated the question. "I don't know. I guess I just don't put myself out there that much." Her thoughts revolved around someone by the name of Rachel. "I feel like I've lived a lifetime of relationship ups and downs in just the span of a few years."

"Enlighten me."

"Well, of course, growing up with traditional family values and in our homophobic society, my dating history started with guys." I could tell the subject was uncomfortable for her. She didn't care to elaborate, but her thoughts about forcing herself to be with some sexist bastard named Christian just to get people off her back kinda said it all. Reminds me of Eddie. "But I quickly learned that that's not what I wanted. Don't get me wrong. Guys are great! They're aesthetically appealing and easy-going, for the most part. But I started to picture myself marrying a guy less and less as days went by."

"Understandable."

"And then when I started college, I met someone whom I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with."

"Really? You knew that soon?"

Liz shook her head in disappointment. "I was naïve." She paused, thinking of the moment she had met Rachel. "She reeled me in alright. We started off as Freshmen joining a community service club on campus. The more and more we worked together and saw each other, the closer we got. We'd hang out and confide in each other, sharing our fears and insecurities. It felt like she was my best friend away from home. Then, feelings started to develop." She sipped her beer. "As much as I wanted to take things to the next level, I didn't think it was worth risking our friendship. But Rachel insisted that we wouldn't know if we could be something greater unless we took our chances. So, after much hesitation, I finally let my guard down and things were great during the year that we dated. I couldn't see past living in the present day, but all I could possibly imagine was Rachel and I being together forever."

"Sounds swell." I sympathized, tipping my cup at her.

"Little did I know that she had gotten bored with me eight months in. She had her eye on someone else already. Went on a few dates and was playing me for a fool."

"Ouch!"

"The cheating hurt, don't get me wrong. But I was more ticked off about the fact that _she_ was the one who initially wanted to take things further. I let my guard down and blindly let her in… and then she kicked my heart _and_ our friendship to the curb." She stared off into the distance as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "I miss her friendship, really." Liz mumbled. "All the bullshit about living happily ever after is just a fairytale. I watched too many chick flicks as a teen." We chuckled for a quick second.

"She didn't deserve you as a girlfriend, much less a friend."

"It's in the past now." She shook her head and shrugged before turning her head, her lips within inches from mine. I could subtly smell the hops off her breath. "I'm better off." We glanced at each other's lips. _"This is the right moment…"_ We leaned in.

"**It's four AM. I'm waking up to your perfume. Don't get up, I'll get through on my own…"** John from Secondhand Serenade strummed to the tune of his vocals as the crowd immediately roared. Our enthusiastic neighbors jumped and applauded, inadvertently bumping into us and taking us out of our moment.

"_Aww, fuck!"_

"**I don't know if I'm home or if I lost the way into your room. I'm spiraling into my doom..." **

We let out of our embrace and she reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers. I gave her hand a quick squeeze to reassure her that she didn't have to be afraid with me.

"**I'm feeling half alive but I know one day, you and I will be free to live and die by our own rules, free despite the fact that men are fools…"**

"_We were _this_ close."_

I kissed her cheek. It didn't ruin our night. I wanted her to know that.

"**I'm almost alive, and I need you to try and save me. It's okay that we're dying, but I need to survive tonight, tonight."**

"_I just wanna kiss her already. _God,_ I wanna kiss her. But, if I kiss her now, she'll think I told her about Rachel just to lure her in to kissing me."_

"**Well excuse me while I get killed softly, heart slows down and I can hardly tell you I'm okay. At least 'til yesterday, you know you got me off my highest guard, believe me when I say it's hard."**

"_Plus, isn't it too soon? I mean… what'll happen after that?"_

I choked on my drink… again. Holy mackerel! It's as if she's thinking into this _way_ too much… to the point where _I_ was feeling uncomfortable.

Geez, I just came to enjoy some music and good company.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I reached for it and saw that work was calling me, but I let it go to voicemail. I'm off the clock. What in the hell do they want?

"**We'll get through this tonight and I know one day, you and I will be free to live and die by our own rules, free despite the fact that men are fools…"**

My phone went off again and I checked it. Not only was there voicemail, but there was also a text message from Donny.

**911**

I squinted in curiosity… and concern. Donny doesn't joke with that. 911 means 911.

I turned to speak in Liz's ear over the music, "I'll be right back. I have to use the restroom."

She nodded.

I ran to the outdoor balcony near the bathroom and immediately called Donny. I heard him answer.

"Donny, what's wrong?"

"_Jenna called me."_ His voice sounded so serious, yet uncertain._ "She and Charles are at the café right now. They want to see us both right away."_

"About what?"

"_They didn't say."_

I scoffed, "But, I can't. I'm out with Liz right now!"

"_It's important, I can tell. We have to be there."_

"Alright." I looked at the time. It was 8:22. How was I supposed to tell Liz?

I returned to where we were standing. I saw Liz sway and slightly bob her head to the music. She looked towards me nonchalantly and I gave her a quick smile. But, I'm not very good at hiding things.

"_Uh-oh."_ Her smile became subtle. Uh-oh indeed. I looked at her with discomfort. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I smiled sheepishly. She continued to look at me, waiting for me to say something. "I have to go."

She wore a puzzled look. "Oh." _"Bummer."_

"I know. I'm _so_ sorry! My boss is _demanding_ that I meet with him… right now." I felt so bad for being such a Debbie Downer!

"Oh… okay." She nodded, trying to pretend she was okay with it. But, in her head, she was cursing my boss… and practically the whole universe because she had been waiting for months to see this band and she had spent so much time and energy just to find these tickets on eBay.

We grabbed our coats and silently walked out of the venue. There wasn't much I could do to rectify the situation. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to lose my job either. Needless to say, the car ride was an awkward ball of silence.

No sooner than I had thought, we'd arrived in front of the café. I noticed Donny at one of the tables outside. He stood the second he met my eyes. He seemed too fearful to walk in by himself, thinking Charles had always hated him. No matter how many times I'd told him that he's the poster child of our café, Charles' top barista, and Jenna's favorite, he'd always think he was on the chopping block.

It can't be that bad. I _have _to think it can't be that bad. But, at the same time, we've never been called in like this before. So… it can't be good either.

Liz smiled from the corner of her lips, trying her best to convince me she understood the reason I had to suddenly ruin our perfect date, but there was no hiding the truth from a mind-reader.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled.

She reached over and hugged me tightly. "It's not your fault."

"I know, but I still feel bad."

"Don't."

"I still had fun though."

She chuckled. "Me too."

We let out of our embrace before I kissed her cheek and turned to exit the car. I got up and spun around. "I'll call you later, I promise."

"Okay," she smiled back, "have a good night, Spence."

"You, too." I smiled, trying so hard not to make it seem so pitiful. "Thanks for tonight."

"_It won't be the last."_ She held back from speaking her mind. "Anytime," she smiled. I shut the door.

She cruised away and there I stood, opposite from the café. Donny stared at me with his hands in his pockets. I clamped my coat collar, watching my breath dissipate as I exhaled.

Moving from one uncomfortable situation to another.


	9. Chapter 9: Something Different

**_"Double the pleasure, double the fun… this chapter is double the length of a doublemint gum!" haha I'm sorry I'm being corny... _****_Hi everyone! Happy weekend to you all! This chapter is twice the length of the previous chapters, and has been my favorite to write thus far :D_**

**_Just wanna say THANK YOU for reading and/or reviewing (yes, it's necessary to remind you all how eternally grateful I am that you take the time to read this weird/awkward/spunky story o.O)…_**

_**Shouts: Alicexangelx, goshNyikes, PandorasTube, mutt009: I REALLY hope you like this one. Thought of ya'll when I wrote it… for Team Ashley! :) B314: I haven't had the pleasure of seeing William Fitzsimmons live, but hope to one day! Love his tunes and glad there's someone else out there who is on the same wavelength about his music… Lonefenix, BrownEyez, SoNFANFOREVER, sparkyleather: I just wanna hug you guys :D Your support means a lot! serna: I'm beyond glad… I'm in awe! Thanks for your support from Spain! lalalalee: I'm doing cartwheels JUST FOR YOU! Letsbefrankimawkward: hearing from you is an event for me! I don't judge… cuz I can relate :D I put a lot of my personal experiences into this story, so I'm glad you totally get it! You rock! ******__…and last but certainly not least, River.R sillyhead! Thank you for beta-ing! You're my numero uno! _

**_ENJOY! :) 5.15.10._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters. Factual places used (Here Lounge and The Abbey) don't belong to me. Lyrics used are from Lady Gaga's "Money Honey" song... which I also (obviously) don't own, but love nonetheless._**

* * *

I tapped my fingers impatiently. The phone continued to ring. I really didn't know why I'd bothered trying to call.

"_Hey, it's Donny. Leave a message." Beep._

"Hey Donny. It's me. Just calling to see if you're still alive." I couldn't help sounding annoyed. "Call me." I hung up the phone and threw it onto the passenger seat next to me. I turned into my complex and slowly parked the car.

It had been three weeks now since I'd talk to or seen Donny. Three weeks since that night with Charles. I've tried calling him numerous times, stopped by his place, and even tried passing by his classes when lecture would end. But, he's managed to avoid me this whole time. I called Sarah and she'd tell me he didn't want to talk to me. We haven't fought like this before.

I sat here contemplating. Sulking over the silent treatment. Agonizing over his unpredictable behavior. Then it occurred to me…

I picked up the phone and hit redial. It went to voicemail again.

"I didn't ask you to do what you did that night!" I sounded a bit hostile. "So, stop acting like this was my fault!" Okay, a lot hostile. "If you give two shits about our friendship, you'd call me back!" I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse, getting out of the car to go inside.

When I locked the front door behind me, I heard rummaging in the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Oh," I heard the fridge door shut, "hey Spence." I turned the corner and saw Madison, grabbing a spoon and attacking a gallon of vanilla bean ice cream. She glanced over and I noticed her cheeks were red. She'd been crying.

"You're home early." I placed my purse on the countertop, not breaking eye contact. "What happened?"

"Don't wanna talk about it." She retorted, which wasn't a problem because she'd let me figure it out by reading her mind. Apparently, she saw Aiden at the Beverly Center, passing by the M.A.C store where Madison worked. He wasn't alone. He was walking around the place, draping himself all over some skanky brunette. "I couldn't even see the bitch's face." Madison walked past me to sit on the couch, squeezing her gallon of ice cream close. I followed and sat next to her, lending an ear and a shoulder to cry on if need be.

She'd texted Aiden at the time, letting him know that he was such an asshole for throwing such a low blow. He'd responded that he's not obligated to honor her feelings, considering she'd been with Glen right before Aiden ended it.

"I told you to delete his number, Madison! What—"

"I know." She responded, expecting my disappointment. I watched as she chipped at some ice cream, staring blankly at it.

After they broke up, Aiden requested to switch his hours so I couldn't figure out his strategy to make the recovery process utterly painstaking for Madison. If I know Madison and Aiden all that well, I would say they're both hurting and doing what they can to front being over each other when, clearly, they're nowhere near it.

"So," she sniffled, "any luck with Donny?" She knew I'd gone over to his place to talk to him, but it ended up that I had waited at his doorstep for a few hours only to come home empty-handed, so to speak.

"Zero," I sighed.

"Seriously," she put her tub of ice cream on the coffee table. Now that I think of it, we haven't had ice cream in our fridge since we've lived here, which can only mean Madison went out of her way to buy break-up food. "What did you do to get him fired?"

I stopped to contemplate the events of that cold night, and everything that followed from the second Liz drove off…

* * *

"So, that's Liz, huh?" Donny asked as I approached him.

"This had better be good." I dismissed his question and took quick strides into the café.

He sighed, "Oh, believe me when I say I'd rather be anywhere else right now."

We spotted Jenna, standing behind the counter in her usual business attire. Her silky red top was screaming bloody murder, which actually made her hair color look a lot more subtle than most days. She snapped her fingers, much like you'd gesture a domestic canine to come over, and signaled us to go upstairs to Charles' office.

"_Boy, do I wish I can pop your head off right now, missy. You're _so_ gonna get it."_

I glared back at her. What's her problem?

I led the way up the wooden steps and could see the bright office light illuminating ahead.

"Of course." Charles was on the phone, surrounded by short stacks of paperwork on his desk. I heard the squeaking of his swivel chair as he signaled us to have a seat.

Jenna came in behind us and shut the door as Donny moved a box of more paperwork off one of the chairs for me to sit down. Jenna stood next to Charles' desk, looking on inquisitively. I couldn't tell who he was talking to, but she seemed to know.

"Yes sir." He leaned his elbows on the desk and didn't make eye contact. "Yes, I will get to the bottom of this and will keep you updated." He swiveled around to face the telephone base, all too eager to hang up. "Uh-huh. Th-thanks. Bye now." Charles quietly hung up the phone and turned to finally face us.

He tugged down on his forest green Lacoste polo. Charles tanned just a little after a day at the golf course. I could smell the sweat and grass off of his athletic exterior. _"Okay, which one of you did it?"_ He remained quiet for a second, observing us both carefully. It was uncomfortable. Jenna followed suit, crossing her arms and watching us closely, me in particular.

"Hi Charles." Donny blurted. He always tried to break tense situations. "How's it going?"

"I don't know, Donovan. You tell me." Charles ran his fingers over his dark mustache before folding his hands on top of the desk.

Donny clenched the armrests, as he sat in bafflement. _"Okay, Spence, a little help here?"_

I quickly glanced at Donny before looking at Charles. "We're confused, Charles. Did we do something wrong?" I felt like my voice was as quiet as a mouse's in this seemingly large office.

Things are always exaggerated in the most uncomfortable situations.

I looked up at Jenna. She looked at me wide-eyed. _"You're so fired, Spencer."_ She smiled unsympathetically with such tight lips.

"We have a little problem on our hands." Charles responded. "That was the police, by the way."

"What kind of problem?" Donny furrowed his eyebrows.

And almost immediately, their thoughts had finally hit me. I had to think fast if I was going to save our asses. My mind raced a mile a minute, which sufficiently drowned out Charles' voice as he told Donny the story. Even Jenna could see that I knew something.

"So, yesterday night, the local police stopped by and had asked for access to our surveillance system. In order to properly assess the damages on city property and charge the drunk driver, they need proof, since no witnesses could attest to the accident. I wasn't given any details, but apparently the driver denies hitting that lamppost and is saying that the lamppost had fallen on _him_."

Unbelievable! The drunken bastard sped out of control and nearly killed Ashley… and, if she were normal, he would've accomplished that feat. I couldn't let him get away with that! It's just… _wrong!_

But, if I turn the tape in, everyone will see what I saw. And who knows what would happen to Ashley? Maybe I would be doing more harm than good.

Ah, but what does it matter? She's no concern of mine. She left for Portland! No one would care to look for her. And that drunk driver would get what he deserved.

Then again, it wasn't his fault if she _did_ step into his path. After all, it looked like a suicide. I'm pretty sure it was! Gosh, it would be such a burden off my shoulders if everyone knew. And maybe I'd finally know the truth about her. We all would.

I _hate_ knowing something I shouldn't.

"Who has it?" Jenna's voice snapped me out of the great debate going on in my head. "Morning shift changes the tapes. When the police came to review the tape, it was blank."

"Wait," Donny scoffed, "you're saying _we_ stole the tape?" Yes, Donny! Don't be so slow on the uptake!

Charles counted the facts on his fingers. "Number one, no one broke in between the time the accident happened and the moment the first shift started. Number two, you were the only ones here at the time the café opened right after the accident." His voice became more stern and aggressive, "and number three, the Tuesday tape was already switched in and running since the time of your shift." He leaned forward. "I like to consider myself a fairly reasonable person and I like to give my employees the benefit of the doubt, but I do _not_ appreciate liars. Who.. took.. the tape?"

Silence prevailed. I felt hot chills run throughout my body. Think, think, _think!_ Why couldn't I come up with something?

"One of you better fess up now and give me that tape, or you're both fired." Charles asserted with such resolute.

I debated whether screaming at the unfairness of the situation would buy me more time to think, but Charles pretty much had all his ducks in a row. It was futile at this point.

I decided to confess.

"You're not getting that tape." Donny blurted before the words could form at my mouth. What the _hell_ is he doing?

"Donny!" Jenna was just as shocked as I was.

"So you took it?" It came out more as a statement than a question, the way Charles put it.

"I took it." Donny reaffirmed. "But like I said, you're not going to get it." Charles glared at him, angered by his rebelliousness and disrespect. "I destroyed it."

"Why?"

Donny shrugged. "There's nothing on it. It caught some car speeding through the intersection, but there was no accident caught on tape. So, even if I turned it in, it'd be useless."

"Why'd you take it in the first place?"

Donny managed to create some elaborate story, which is what I wanted to do in his place. If only my brain functioned a second faster.

"I heard about the accident and thought I could sell it to the media."

"A drunk driver loses control, crashes, and lands himself in the hospital… and all you've got on your mind is 'how can I make money off of his losses?' Good to know where your moral compass is pointing and where your priorities lie." Charles leaned back into his chair. He quickly glanced at me to see if I knew anything, but I sat there in awe at what just happened. I felt so scared for Donny.

Jenna remained flabbergasted.

I was about to defend his honor when Donny's thoughts advised me to remain silent. He knew I took the tape. He just didn't know why. But that didn't stop him from protecting me.

"You can see yourselves out now." Jenna calmly broke the silence. We stood, dragging ourselves out in what felt like a physical brawl from that mental beating.

"One more thing," Charles' voice bellowed as we paused to look back, "Donovan, you're fired."

* * *

I blinked hard, trying to shake the memory out of my head, but it was no use.

I'd kept Madison in the dark about the tape. The less people that know, the better.

I responded to her question, "Nothing." That's all I did – nothing. And 'nothing' is what got him fired. I didn't step up when it was my fall to take.

"I saw Sarah on campus the other day." She said as she nibbled on her ice cream. I looked at Madison inquisitively, though I could tell she knew nothing. "Whatever this big fight is between you and Donny, you both are pretty loyal to secrecy." I guess, from Donny's perspective, there's nothing to tell if he doesn't know why I did what I did… not that it matters anyway.

"Things are so messed up." I spoke my mind.

She turned to face me. "I'm ready to listen when you're ready to talk."

"You and Aiden. Me and Donny." I sighed as I sat cross-legged on the couch to get more comfortable. "The fab five is breaking up, and for some reason, I feel at fault."

"I can't explain whatever's going on with you two, but you can't blame yourself for the catastrophe that was me and Aiden. He's a man-whore. If anything, it's my fault for ever thinking he was different… or could be different."

"Well, you're not necessarily the poster child of loyal girlfriends either, Mad."

She scoffed as she slammed her tub onto the coffee table. "Way to kick me when I'm down, Spence!"

"I'm sorry!" I raised my voice, which made it sound more assertive than apologetic. "But you need to figure out what you want already! You and Aiden had this rollercoaster of a relationship, dragging every person you found useful to sabotage each other for the tumultuous ride." For a second, I contemplated where the hell my choice of words was coming from, and how much I sounded like a parent than a friend. But, I didn't care. She needed to hear it for what it was. "And Glen shows up and you pounce on him like the newest product on M.A.C shelves—"

"Hey!" She huffed. "I resent that!"

"I'm just saying," I finally lowered the volume of my voice, "you two need to figure out what you want, whether it's each other or not, and go with that. Stop flip-flopping. You're a young adult and you need to do what's best for you, with or without him." I nodded in assertion, partly proud of myself for knowing so much without having the years of relationship experience to really back me up.

"Regardless of what I want," she stood abruptly, grabbing the ice cream tub on her way to the kitchen, "it's over." Her thoughts were begging me to comfort her. But I didn't want to feed her that pity. She needed to get over this… the hard way. It's the only way she could feel pain, learn from it, make up her mind, and essentially move on. I couldn't make her mind up for her.

In the meantime, I'll try to make the break up process less painful for her…

"What've you got planned tonight?" I hollered over my shoulder.

"Nothing. Why?" I heard her wash her spoon in the sink. She wanted more than anything to curl up in her bed and shut the world out, doing nothing but watching Audrey Hepburn flicks.

"It's Friday." My tone became more jovial. "Let's get out of the house and do something we haven't done in a while."

"Like what?" Madison sounded disinterested. I know the feeling. When you're fresh into a break-up, you don't want to do anything but sulk.

"We can watch 'I Love You, Man.' I know how much you've been wanting to see it."

"I don't know…" She really was disinterested.

"C'mon! It'll be fun!"

**"When you give me k-kisses, that's money, honey! When I'm your lover and your mistress, that's money, honey!"**

Madison's phone blared from the coffee table. She made a bee-line for her phone. I quickly grabbed it, noticing it was a 503 area code number.

**"When you touch me, it's so delicious, that's money, honey! Baby, when you tear me to pieces, that's money, honey!"**

"Give it!" She held her hand out.

"Just making sure it's not you-know-who." I handed her the phone as she rolled her eyes.

"Hello?" She answered and turned to take the call in her room, "Hey! How are you?" That's as cheery as I've ever heard her in the past few weeks, but I know it's all a façade.

I got up, grabbed a frozen chimichanga from the freezer and popped it into the microwave. I set the time for a minute, noticing it was a little after nine in the evening. While I waited, I shuffled through some of the junk mail on the countertop. Ooh! Domino's 555 deal! Definitely keeping that ad.

I look up and see Madison quickly stride across the living room to grab the makeup out of her purse on the dining table. She had something different in mind and I raised a brow. She was already exhibiting something other than sulky angst.

"So, what'd you decide?" I stared at her in observation. "Movie date with me?" She almost seemed normal again.

"Oh," she rummaged through her purse and grabbed her eyeliner, "that was someone from my Sociology class." The microwave beeped as Madison ran off into the hallway.

"Hmm, yes," I turned and carefully took my chimi out of the microwave, "you seem to do quite a bit of socializing in Sociology."

Madison dismissed my comment, "Anyways, _she_ wanted to know if I wanted to go out with her and her friend to this bar in West Hollywood." Her voice echoed from her bedroom.

"Oh, it's a _she!_" I mocked. "Remember that talk we had about figuring out what you want?"

"Uh-huh, are you done?"

I giggled, carefully nibbling on my chimi.

"Well, when you're done eating, get ready. Tell Liz to come, too."

"Huh?" I ran into the hallway, wide-eyed and chuckling at the idea, "I'm not going, Mad."

"Do _not_ get cheese on the carpet, Spence!" She screamed at me as she changed into a fancy black tank with gold sequined straps. I turned back and made my way to the dining table.

"Why do _I_ have to go?" I whined loudly towards the hallway. "And West Hollywood? Really? Since when do you like hanging out in queer town?" I had to ask a million questions, now that we weren't in the same room.

"I'm just going out to loosen up a bit." Her voice sounded. "I thought you were looking after my best interest, Spence."

"Actually, this would be the perfect way to turn a nympho like you celibate." I snickered before taking another bite of my chimi. "Where in WeHo are you going anyway?" I mumbled with my mouth partially full.

"Some place called Here Lounge." Hmm…

"Funny, how you never wanted to go when I'd invited you all those times. Why now?"

"So, go with me now." She spoke slowly and I could tell she was putting on her make-up. "You think Liz will want to come?"

"No, she's with her friends tonight. I told her I was gonna stay in with you."

"Then, don't be a loner on a Friday night. Come with us!"

If this were months ago, I wouldn't even hesitate to go to Here Lounge. Hot bartenders, body shots, public lap dances, sexy ladies, and stiff drinks. It was definitely my favorite place to go crazy or mellow out (or both) on a Friday night. But, I haven't been around WeHo since Melinda and I were over. As strange as it seems, she was kinda my only connection to the queer nightlife. So, for me, WeHo has Melinda written all over it.

"I dunno," I winced as I looked at what I was wearing. "I look like shit." I picked a crumb off the collar of my hoodie.

On top of that, things were going really well with Liz. I'm getting comfortable taking things slow with her. And I'm not really looking to play the field. So, there's really no reason for me to go drool over all those hotties.

"Come on. I need you to be there for me."

"Why? So I can hold your hair for you?" I bickered.

"You damn right!" She played into my snide remark. "So, get ready. They're gonna pick me up any minute now."

Instantaneously, I heard a knock on the door as I took the last bite of my chimichanga. I got up and threw my trash away, quickly swiping at any crumbs that may have fallen on my bib of a chest.

Damn crumbs. I brushed a couple off my lap as I opened the door.

When I looked up, I could literally feel the blood rush away from my face as I stood there with that whole deer-in-headlights look.

"Spencer." Ashley seemed just as surprised to see me, yet not as speechless. She took a quick step back and glanced at the numbers next to the doorframe. "You," she glanced around behind me, "live with Madison?"

"Uh, I… um…" I furrowed my eyebrows, having the utmost difficult time formulating any cohesive thoughts or articulate words. "What… uh…"

"You okay there?" She raised a brow, allowing a somewhat amused smirk to curl at the corner of her mouth. "You didn't ice that bump, did you?" _Tsk tsk._

I squinted and crinkled my nose at her. Very funny.

"You, uh… have a little cheese on your lip there." She pointed and I immediately wiped at my mouth.

"W-when did you get back?" My words rushed out.

"Back?" She furrowed.

"Hey Ashley!" Madison squeezed her way around me.

"Hey, there you are!" She switched to an amiable grin.

"This is Spencer, by the way." I stepped aside, still dumbfounded.

"Yeah, we met before actually." Ashley tugged down at her navy cardigan.

"Really? Where?" Madison inquired. Ashley nodded as I managed to lift my glances from my feet to Ashley's eyes. My eyes grew wide, anticipating what she might say. We've had a lot of run-ins, none of which sustain as memorable… or positive.

"Spencer makes a mean cup of coffee at the café." She nodded knowingly, looking between both Madison and myself. "And we have class together."

"Philosophy." I blurted.

"Oh, are you a double major or something?" Madison asked.

"I'm actually undecided." That's strange. She's taking upper division classes and is still undecided?

"Really?" I questioned as she nodded. "What year are you?"

Madison turned to me, "Why don't you get ready so we can go?" She annunciated her words like she was my mother or something.

I growled at the idea. But, I turned without word and went to my room to get ready. Why? For one, as one of Madison's closest friends, I felt the need to watch her back, especially since it doesn't appear she knows Ashley as well as she should. Secondly, it'd be kinda fun to see how Madison would handle herself in WeHo.

"Come on in, Ashley." Madison waved her in.

"Thanks." The awkward brunette (yes, that's how I will always know her as) welcomed herself in and curiously looked at the décor of our little abode. "Nice apartment you have." Don't get too comfy! "Just you two here?"

I went into my bathroom to wash my face. I made sure not to blast the faucet water so I can properly eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Yeah, Spence and I go way back."

"Grew up together?"

"High school." Madison paused. "I also dated her brother."

"Awkward." Ashley snickered. "Was this way before Aiden?" Wait, she knows about Aiden?

"Definitely before… and a _little_ bit during." I could practically hear Madison roll her eyes. "It's complicated."

"I wouldn't judge." Of course you wouldn't. You dated Yvette! "Honestly, I think relationships are pretentious and have become this meaningless, invisible barrier that forces human beings into this unnecessary feel of ownership and obligation. We're always trying to figure out what satisfies and pleases our significant others, when we ourselves don't even know what the hell it is we want."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Well, there goes my whole 'figure out what you want' speech, falling out of Madison's head.

"I mean, c'mon," she scoffed, "you're young! You're not supposed to know what you want right now, much less figure someone else out. You're supposed to have fun while you're still barrier-free!" Spoken like a true whore.

"You make a great point, Ash." Really Madison? You're going to let someone as cold-hearted and shallow as Ashley brainwash you? Ugh!

I abruptly wiped my face and marched across the hallway to my room. I have a duty to protect Madison from Ashley's antics! Whatever she says tonight, I must counter. I grabbed my red shirt dress out of the closet and slipped out of the t-shirt I had on before draping it over my body, rolling the short sleeves, and buttoning them just below the edge of my shoulders.

"Can I use your bathroom real quick?"

"Sure, go ahead and use mine through the master bedroom. Spencer's bathroom door is broken." I heard footsteps shuffle across the carpet. "I wouldn't want you to get locked in."

I buttoned my shirt dress and saw movement in the hallway. The split second I looked up, I saw Ashley glance at me. I cautiously watched her glide past my door. When I heard the faint sound of Madison's bathroom door shutting, I marched out into the living room where Madison began to sulk, thinking about what Aiden was doing with that girl tonight.

"Ready?" She looked up and saw my somewhat concerned expression. "What?"

"How long have you known Ashley?" I made a point to keep my voice down.

"Well, we have class together, but we've been hanging out this past week since we were put into the same group for our class project." She crossed her arms and collapsed onto the couch, sighing at my prolonged tardiness.

"A week?" I raised a brow. "And she already knows about Aiden and your whole life story?"

"So?" She shrugged. "What's the problem, Spence?" Madison slightly raised her voice, thinking I was being unreasonably paranoid.

"I don't know. I get a bad vibe off of her."

"Do you even talk to her when you see her in class?" I noticed her getting a bit more defensive. "She's a cool person."

"Just be careful, Mad. Don't be so trusting."

"Relax! She's mellow, okay?"

"Uh-huh." I turned to grab my black leggings and flats out of the closet in my room. Ashley came out of Madison's room and I briefly looked at her with suspicion. She, however, glanced at me with this innocent, jovial smirk as we passed each other in the hallway.

I continued to eavesdrop as I got ready.

"Please excuse Spencer taking her sweet ass time." Madison mumbled to the awkward brunette. "Is your friend waiting in the car?"

"No rush." She responded so casually. "My friend's actually going to meet us at the bar. She went ahead to get us a table."

When we were ready to leave, Ashley showed us to her Prius. Strange, since I could only picture her driving a gaudy car that fit a more youthful, contemporary taste… you know? Like a Kompressor or… a Mustang. I sat in the backseat and zoned in and out of their conversation. It's strange how well the two of them get along… and so soon. I hope she's not trying to turn Madison… like that's possible. Ha!

I texted Liz to let her know where we were going, hoping she'd be able to stop by and save me from the debauchery. She said she'd try to come by. She was with Anthony, Sebastian and Kader at the Poetry Lounge. It's hookah night.

"Did you call Liz?" Madison turned in the passenger seat to look at me.

"I just texted her. She said she'd try to stop by."

"Whose Liz?" Ashley glanced at me from her rearview mirror.

"My girlfriend."

"Oh."

I looked away and out the window at the posh shops on the street corners as we drove up the narrow street of Robertson Boulevard. It was silent, aside from the very low hum of the car whisking across the pavement.

Ashley pulled off to the left to valet the car. The street was packed with cars and there was absolutely no parking. We quickly stepped out as I grabbed my coat and clutch, and we ran across the slender street to the lounge. Everyone seemed to either be in this ridiculously long line to the left of the lounge, or packed like sardines at The Abbey next door.

Friday night is girls night at the lounge, but I did _not_ feel like standing in this long line all night. They had the shades pulled down over the bars above the wall so no one could see through. It's a good tactic to lure people in and see what all the fun fuss was about. You could just hear people chattering on the patio on the other side of this wall we stood by. Disco lights beamed through the slits in the shades. The DJ was blasting LMFAO's _La La La._

Ashley went into the VIP line and waved down the door girl, a slender, dark-skinned girl with subtle eye make-up and a carefully groomed faux hawk. She conversed for a brief moment before Madison and I followed. The girl unhooked the velvet rope and guided us inside.

We went through the black gate into the patio, where girls were chatting, smoking, and drinking in the dimly lit, somewhat posh outdoor lounge. Trees subtly decorated in white lighting hovered over. We entered a large doorway to the left where the main bar and dance floor were. It was crowded and almost difficult to hear the music, considering a bunch of thoughts were flooding my head. Everyone's thoughts were all focused in on the moment – checking out hotties, using a lot of tongue in make out sessions, fantasies, wanting to do one of the luscious bartenders, self-conscious wallflowers, drunken nonsense, bi-curious and looking to experiment, wanting to find true love, or just plain looking to get laid. Places like this make me want to drink to drown out all the nonsense.

We squeezed through the dance floor to walk up a few steps to the right where all the tables were. Each table was candlelit and separated with dark red curtains. There was a raunchy birthday party going on at the tables across the way. We walked to one of the tables on the right, where I noticed an ice bucket, glasses, three pitchers of soda, orange juice, and cranberry juice, a bottle of Ciroq and a bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. I looked up and saw a tall, slender girl put her glass down before standing and hugging Ashley. She was wearing a black buttoned up dress shirt over a slightly-hinted white wifebeater. Her studded belt hung low over her hips and black Dickies slacks.

"This is Madison and Spencer." Ashley raised her voice over the music.

She stuck her hand out, "Hi, I'm Jton." She smiled behind her dark boyish hair, her hair cut extremely short in the back with loose strands hanging over her forehead and eyes. It reminded me of Keira Knightley in that movie, Domino. We shook hands as I smiled back. Her friendliness was quite contagious. "Come on in." She waved me and Madison over. We shimmied our way over the cushioned bench.

"How much do we owe you for the table?" Madison called across to Jton as Ashley began pouring drinks for us.

"Oh," Jton scrunched her face, "don't worry about it! I'm really cool with the manager. So, I practically get it for free."

"Can I at least buy you a drink or something, just to payback your kindness?" Madison really didn't know how to slow her roll. I could read Jton's mind. I smiled to myself in amusement.

"How about you dance with me later instead?" She flung her arm over the pillowed backrest and sipped her Jack on ice.

"Oh! Uh—"

"Down girl!" Ashley slapped Jton on the knee. "Madison's strictly dickly." She handed Madison and I two glasses of vodka cran. Hmm, how'd she know my favorite drink?

"For now." Jton grinned as Ashley rolled her eyes and Madison shared in nervous laughter. I sat content with my drink, entertained with watching this whole scene unfold before me. "How about you, Spence? What are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You straight, gay, bi, bi-curious?" She leaned forward. I took no offense to her assertion. She just wanted to know, in all honesty.

"I'm gay." I sipped my drink.

"What kinda gay?"

I laughed, "Just… gay." I shrugged. "Normal gay girl." I quirked my eyebrow, "Why? Is there a different kind?"

"There's…" she looked up in contemplation and began counting on her fingers, "femme, lipstick lesbian, liquid lesbian, chapstick lesbian, butch, stone butch, soft butch…"

"Wow, I wasn't aware of the variations."

"Dude, she's gay." Ashley interrupted. "Isn't that enough of a label?" She smirked.

Jton shrugged.

"So, how do you two know each other?" I pointed at Ashley sitting to Madison's right and Jton across from me.

"I met Ash at the Normandie Room, a nice little dive bar down the street from here. I was shooting pool and had a little problem with the competition. This big butch, Kyle. She thought I cheated. We had quite a bit of money riding on that game. A grand. Long story short, big bar fight broke out and Ash was there to back me up." She held her glass up to Ash, who mimicked her move before they both drank from their glasses. Jton exhaled the stiffness of that drink. "That was.. what.. two years ago, Ash?"

"I reckon." She nodded. "It's been a good two years." I sensed a tinge of sadness in Ashley's tone. She masked it by finishing her glass of Ciroq. No ice. No chaser.

"And you gals know Ash from UCLA?"

"Yeah." Madison chimed in.

"Ash is so smart." Jton feigned maternal pride. She squeezed Ashley's cheeks, causing me to elicit a hearty giggle. "My lil girl's all grown up now." Ashley smacked her hand away and almost slapped Jton upside the head. "Watch the hair!"

"You graduating this year, Ashley?" My question forced Ashley to stop acting so candid… and fun.

"Uh," she brushed down her cardigan, "no, not yet."

"Oh, next year then?" I watched her carefully, still trying to figure this girl out.

"Next year, the year after, or the year after that… it doesn't matter." Jton interrupted. "Just as long as she's getting her education." She nudged Ashley's shoulder. They looked at one another, sharing that Colgate smile. It was kinda nice to witness that sincere friendship they have, which is much more to what I've witnessed from angered professors, slutty whores, and potheads. I'm a bit surprised to see that Ashley was capable of… having a heart. "So, Yvette's been looking for you." She said more so to Ashley, but I couldn't help but lean in to eavesdrop.

"Ugh! Girl can't take a hint." Ashley turned to pour herself another glass as Jton sat closer to talk in her ear.

"Be nice. Talk to her. Let her down gently." I couldn't hear their conversation over the music, but could read Jton's mind.

Ashley turned to her and said something inaudible.

"Stage five clinger." Jton responded as Ashley nodded.

"Spence, let's go dance." Madison nudged as she poured a little more cranberry juice into her drink. Ashley made it pretty stiff. I glanced at the other two and then stood up.

"Sure, let's go."

I led the way down to the dance floor and we managed to find a small space by the bar. We danced with each other as I could hear thoughts all around us – people eye-fucking us or other people across the room. I downed my drink, trying really hard to listen to the lyrics of Beyonce's _Single Ladies_.

I glanced at the wall behind Madison. _The_ wall. It was some unspoken rule that anyone whose back comes in contact with that wall was going to be molested in some way, shape or form. It's the wall people make out against… or grind on each other against… or cop a feel against. Oddly enough, there was no other wall that had that power. Just _that_ wall… directly left of the main bar.

I twirled Madison as the music changed to Lady GaGa's _Just Dance_. Madison's face turned into sheer excitement. She totally had her 'oh!' face on and it looked like she'd been bitten by the dance bug. She started to get all into the music, handing me her drink so she had full function of her hands tangling themselves in her hair. She caused quite the crowd, making mouths water and heads spin. I had my hand around her waist just to ward some of the girls away.

"_This is my jam!"_ Madison's thoughts repeated over and over again.

I smiled at her, not just because I could see her finally having a good time, but because she was completely oblivious to how she's just a piece of meat dangling in front of a hungry pack of wolves.

"I _love_ this song!" Jton squeezed her way into our space. She handed Madison another glass of vodka cran.

"_Uh,"_ she smiled nervously, _"help, Spence?"_ She looked in my direction.

"You're okay." I mouthed to her and gave her the 'OK' sign. I knew Jton thought she was cute, but she definitely didn't wanna try to get Madison to 'change teams.' Something tells me she'd dealt with enough of those in her past.

I turned and saw Ashley right behind us, bobbing her head as she leaned up against the bar and sipped her drink. She looked complacent… and so full of herself… as we both noticed a trashy looking number strutting her overly confident, inebriated self directly in front of Ashley. She pulled her jet black locks behind her ear, under this fake, white hibiscus pinned to the side of her head. Her name's Leilani, which she whispered into the awkward brunette's ear. I two-stepped with drink in hand, watching closely as Ashley looked the girl up and down, grinning at what she saw. I'm sure she was admiring how that little black dress hugged Leilani's curves to the point where her tits were just a breath away from oozing out. It was this sly 'come hither' smile that drew her into Ashley.

Okay, I'm ready to get outta here already.

All of a sudden, I felt small hands run up my hips and the sides of my body. I turned to find this bite-sized brunette with long, brown curls and heavy make-up with vivid, red lips that matched the hint of my shirt dress.

"_Now, that I know you're not with _her._" _She glared at Madison before pursing her lips at me like a girl with swagger. She briefly glanced at her hands dancing across my body before closing the distance between us to speak into my ear, "Hi there."

I smiled in friendliness, continuing to keep my hands to myself, "Hi." I took a few steps back as she ran her hands over her body, down to her thighs, and up in the air, shaking her ass and licking her lips at me. She apparently mistook me backing up as some form of playing hard to get. She stepped closer to grind herself into me, glaring up at me with a sultry grin. I was caught off guard and looked up to see if someone would save me. Unfortunately, Madison was having a blast downing drink after drink and letting Jton twirl and grind her like Jton's personal toy thing. And Ashley's back was turned as she leaned over the bar, sipping her drink and letting Leilani practically hump her hip and slip her fingers under her cardigan.

Shit. This is exactly why I didn't wanna come tonight.

The short brunette pulled me to her, stretching to speak into my ear again. "What's your name?"

"Spencer," I smiled with tight lips. "What's yours?" I bent a little to yell over the music and into her ear.

"Roxanne." Ah, what a fitting name!

I backed up again, seeing as how her hands found their way up to the buttons of my shirt. I don't know how it happened, but she managed to unbutton my top two buttons. She, again, thought I was being shy and compensated for it by being extra aggressive. Roxanne turned and bent over before running her ass up the length of my legs to my pelvis. I stumbled back again from the force of her booty. But this time, I found myself against the wall. I looked to both sides and, of course, couples were either making out, grinding, copping a feel on one another, or some combination of the three.

Okay, don't panic. How do I get out of this?

She peeled me off the wall and switched places with me, pulling me close to sandwich her against the wall. I stumbled again and inadvertently rubbed my knee up her pelvis in my attempt to get some footing. She exhaled sharply and bit her lip, looking at me with such want.

"I-I have a girlfriend." I blurted, not knowing any other way to be gentle because let's face it – she didn't want me to be.

"Bring her over." She licked her lips again.

Okay, now I'm fucked.

I backed up, but not before Roxanne reached out and pulled my collar down, exposing my black-laced bra. I looked at her with such shock, and yet, she thought I was enjoying myself. I struggled to quickly cover up and button my top.

I suddenly felt a pair of hands grab my waist from behind. Oh, this is just great! Roxanne wore this smoldering look across her face, thinking whoever was behind me was my supposed girlfriend. I felt myself being guided backwards away from the wall and into a warm body. Roxanne looked like a hungry lioness, charging forward and on the verge of pouncing on me, when I felt the person behind me swing around and face me.

"You sure move fast on the first date." Ashley yelled over the music, briefly glancing down at me buttoning my top. She's one to talk!

Roxanne continued to dance, trying to shimmy around Ashley. But, Ashley did a good job of keeping herself between us. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I found myself in her proximity.

"I wasn't cheating." I mumbled into her curls as I gripped her shoulders and allowed us to sway to Ne-Yo's _Miss Independent_.

"I know." She laughed. "The panic on your face was priceless though."

"Well, I'm glad I've amused you. Now my purpose in life is complete." I responded sarcastically.

She backed away to smile at me, her hands still around my waist. "Wanna go back to the table?"

"Sure."

Ashley placed her hand on the small of my back and guided me across the dance floor, past the moving bodies, and up the short steps.

"Where's Leilani?" I asked as we sat down next to each other.

"How'd you know her name?" She poured herself a drink of whiskey on the rocks.

"Wild guess." I shrugged.

"I'm not buying that." She smirked.

"How'd you manage to pry yourself from her death grip? I thought she's your type anyway."

"How do you know what my type is?"

"You like 'em throwing themselves at you."

"Whatever." She shook her head at me. "You drunk?"

"Hmm," I put my empty glass down and let her pour me another drink, "I'm buzzing a bit." She, on the other hand, looked sober as a nun. "So, you being invincible doesn't allow you to enjoy a good buzz, does it?"

"Something like that."

"Or get a good high."

"Something like that." She handed me my drink before wrinkling her eyebrows. "Wait, since when did I come off as a pothead?"

I sipped my drink and lazily leaned up against the cushioned backrest. The alcohol was definitely affecting my desire to filter whatever I might say. "That kid from Weihmeier's class… Aaron."

"What about Aaron?" She turned to face me.

"He said you were a pothead." I brought my arm over the backrest and held my head up in the palm of my hand. "But you never got high."

She quietly sipped her drink and I craved, more than ever, to know what she was thinking.

"Why'd you go to Portland?"

She looked at me again. "How'd you know about that?"

"Yvette." Yeah, I was definitely beginning to speak without restraint.

"How do you know Yvette?"

"Why do I have to answer all of _your_ questions?" I looked at her with relaxed eyes. She leaned back to meet my gaze. It was almost difficult to ignore her intoxicating scent.

She sighed, "Portland's my haven. I go there when I feel… threatened."

"Threatened?" I sat up. "By whom?"

She looked me in the eyes. "By you."

"Why?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "What'd I ever do to you?"

"You saw me." She looked at me with such fear, uncertainty… and vulnerability.

"Ash," I subconsciously rested my hand on her sleeved forearm, "I wasn't gonna tell anyone." I said softly.

"So, why are you stalking me then? Why are you trying to figure me out?"

"I just wanna know why I can't re—" And my filter finally kicked in. I shook my head, "I-I'm not stalking you."

"You a friend of Yvette's then?"

"No!" I scoffed and was slightly offended that she would associate me with that clown. "I ran into her, right after you _shamelessly_ dumped her via text message… and she hit on me!" I was, again, offended at the memory of it all. "Really Ash? You had the nerve to dump her via text?"

She shot up in her seat. "We were never together, alright?" And I'm glad she had such restraint because it looked like she was literally going to pull her hair out. "Seriously, did she put you up to this?"

"No!" I rolled my eyes. "But, maybe you need to think twice before you just use people for sex, ya know?"

"What?"

"People have feelings. And it's obvious you don't know how to grasp that." I sipped my drink again.

"Wow," she lowered her voice, "you really don't know me at all."

"I guess not." I downed the rest of my drink.

"Hey guys!" Jton barged in with Madison draped over her shoulder. Jton was out of breath, struggling to keep Madison upright. "We gotta go. We're getting kicked out."

"Why?" Ashley stood up to help brace Madison. I followed suit as the bouncer came by, waving his flashlight at us.

"I bought Madison a body shot off one of the bartenders and she totally upchucked on her."

"Ohh… shit." I shook my head as Ashley bellowed in laughter. Really not the time!

"Ladies, you need to leave now." The bouncer guided us to the nearest exit. Madison passed out like dead weight. So, Ashley scooped her up in her arms as I carried Madison's coat and clutch. Jton sat her up in the back of Ashley's car while I rode shotgun.

I remained quiet as Jton filled us in on Madison's fun-filled queer night. For the most part, I was pleased that she was looking out for my roommate's best interest. She was definitely up for showing Madison a good time, without pushing herself onto a newly single, straight girl. Jton was pleased to make a new friend, especially the GaGa-loving dancer type that Madison is.

Five minutes later, we were dropping Jton off at her apartment down Santa Monica Boulevard. She grabbed some water bottles from her garage, where I noticed a silver Ducati at rest. Jton was kind enough to try and sober Madison up so she wouldn't have such a terrible hangover the next day. She also handed us some plastic bags for the road.

Before we left, I hopped into the backseat and made sure to keep Madison sitting upright, just in case she vomited. I didn't want her to choke on herself. Plus, sitting shotgun with the awkward brunette would not be conducive, especially if we happened to slip into our heated discussion about how much Ashley's a whore. I would so win that discussion anyway.

The ride home was quiet, with the exception of Madison's periodic groans. She smacked her lips a few times, and I readily gave her some water so she wouldn't be dehydrated. Ashley kept her eyes on the road, never glancing at the rearview mirror.

When we got to our apartment complex, Ashley lifted Madison with such ease and carried her into her bedroom. I placed Madison's belongings on her dresser before removing her shoes. Ashley stood aside with her hands in her pocket as I sat on the bed next to Madison.

"Mad, have some water." I sat her up and made her drink. She groaned with her eyes closed, signaling that she didn't want anymore. "I don't want you to have a hangover tomorrow." Madison continued to refuse. "Alright, I'll leave it on the nightstand for you." I got up. "Don't say I didn't warn you about the hangover." I went into her bathroom and grabbed her trash basket. I placed it in front of her nightstand before I turned towards the door.

Ashley walked over to where Madison was curled up. "Thanks for coming out, Madison." She snickered. "No pun intended." I rolled my eyes. "But, I hope we showed you a good time."

Madison's eyes opened briefly as she exhaled her smile. "Maybe you lesbians have the right idea," she slurred before readjusting herself and curling up tighter.

"Maybe," the awkward brunette laughed. "We sure have more fun. _That's_ for sure!"

"Especially when you're single," my roommate continued to slur. "'Cause… relationships are sssstupid!"

"Yeah, who needs relationships when you already feel like a million bucks on your own?" Ashley grinned. "Sleep tight! I'll call you in the morning."

"Okay." Madison whispered. Ashley turned and walked passed me with this smug look on her face that I was ready to slap. I shut the door behind me.

"Don't encourage her." I growled… as quietly as possible.

"Encourage her to what?" Ashley turned to face me once we were in the living room. "Don't encourage her to be herself? Don't encourage her to have fun? Let loose? Enjoy life?"

"She needs to figure out what her priorities are and make decisions for herself. She doesn't need a bad influence like _you_." I crossed my arms.

"You know what your problem is, Spence? You need to loosen up and get the proverbial stick outta your ass. Live a little!"

"Oh," I raised my eyebrows, "this is coming from a person of such compassion and feeling, who doesn't just use people to 'let loose?'" I used air quotes. "Do you even have a heart in that ice cold cavity of yours?"

"And where the hell did you get the idea that I use people for sex?"

"Yvette. Need I say more?"

"What about her?" She shook her head, not understanding the logic of it all.

"I saw her throw herself at you at The Pit."

"And?"

"Please," I scoffed, "you mean to tell me you didn't have your way with her, dump her on her ass via text, and look to take someone else home tonight?"

She pointed at me, "You need to get your facts straight. I never slept with Yvette. She was going through a hard time, trying to get over her drug addiction. I was there for her… as a friend. She wanted more out of me, but I told her that I was only capable of being her friend." Ashley sat on the armrest of the couch. "She still took it the wrong way and thought we were together. I told her so many times, but she won't listen. So, I had to be mean to her for her own good."

"Oh," is all I could respond with.

"And as far as Leilani is concerned, yeah, she was gorgeous! I found her attractive." Ashley shrugged. "So, sue me!"

"Ah, yes… you like that sort of shallow type."

"If I did, then would I be here trying to explain myself to the likes of you?" Ashley smirked. "Of course not! I'd probably be 'having my way with her.'" She mocked my air quotes.

"Ha!" I scoffed at the overly confident brunette.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm no saint, Spencer." She smiled. "I could have anyone I want, trust me."

"Oh please." I crossed my arms.

She smirked at me so smugly. "Could've had you, too, if I wanted to."

I rolled my eyes. "Ashley, you are so full of _shit!_" I scolded her, but she just stood there, haughtily laughing in my face. Oh, she was getting a good kick out of it alright! "Ugh! Don't flatter yourself!" I was nauseous and my blood was practically boiling.

"You don't remember our conversation at the Dubliner, do you?"

"What conversation?" I stupidly asked, namely because I didn't know what she was talking about.

Ashley's eyes grew wide before she chuckled again, "Wow, you must've been trashed then! I knew I smelled tequila on your breath. You sure tasted like it."

I winced at the thought of that drunken night. "Forget I asked." I turned to let her out, but she stopped me.

"I came over to say hi and I sat next to you as we seemed to talk and laugh about everything and anything. You sure are fun when you live a little! I also thanked you for your generosity in making me a late-night cup of hodge-podge, which was amazing, by the way. And then you lured me in with this cute little devious smile of yours, begging to purr in my ear."

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes.

"You lazily wrapped your arms around me and told me," Ashley leaned in to whisper in my ear, "'that's not the only thing I'm talented at.'"

I swallowed hard, and I didn't know if it was because I couldn't fathom the idea of me being so forward… or if it was the way Ashley said it to me.

"So?" I breathed out.

"And so, you showed me… with your lips." She responded in such a low alluring tone. "And then you asked me if we could go back to my place." Ashley slowly inhaled as she stepped back to look me in the eyes.

"But we didn't." I said so matter-of-factly before clearing my throat.

"No, we didn't." She shook her head with a half smile.

"Because you felt sick?" I asserted, instead of questioned.

"I don't know what I felt. It was… different." She shook her head. "But do you see what I'm saying? _You_ threw yourself at me. And I didn't sleep with you."

"Whatever!" It was all I could counter with as I stepped back to gain a little more distance from the awkward brunette. "I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing."

"My point is… I don't use people the way you think I do. Just wanted to set the record straight."

"Fine." I shrugged. I felt very uncomfortable, probably because we both knew I had no substantial argument at this point.

"Well," she looked at the clock on the microwave, "it's getting late and I better go so you can sleep." I turned to see that it was 12:55 AM.

As uncomfortable as I was, I wish she didn't have to leave. I still had so many burning questions… especially about the tape and about her as a person. What would've happened if we _did_ sleep together? Why did she feel sick? Was she telling me she was repulsed by me?

I opened the door as she walked onto the front step.

She turned, "So, I'll see you around or something… in class maybe."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"I had a good time tonight." She smiled, and for some reason, it made me feel reassured. I'm not sure about what.

"Me too." I genuinely smiled back. "Thanks for helping me keep Madison from sulking another night."

"Anytime," Ashley nodded before turning to walk away. "Goodnight."

"G'night."

I stood there and watched her walk away as I noticed it was a crisp, clear night. The cold air was surprisingly soothing. So, I let the door shut behind me and sat on the front step, briefly admiring the hovering moon. I contemplated tonight's events and grew increasingly frustrated with asking myself the same question:

Why can't I read Ashley's mind?

I looked down the dark path and crossed my arms over my knees, realizing that she was gone. She was physically nowhere near at this point, yet I was drowning in whatever she'd left behind. I felt like she'd prodded me with some hot iron rod. There was some weird burning sensation within, and I was stuck with these serious thoughts. She totally ninja'd me.

What is she doing to me?

I lay my head on my forearms and closed my eyes.

For a second, I could hear footsteps quickly approaching. I smiled, thinking that maybe the awkward brunette felt as I felt… that she had some questions needing to be answered.

Soon, those footsteps had drawn near to where I sat. And then I felt slightly disappointed.

"Hey!" She almost seemed out of breath, but sighed in what sounded like relief. _"God, I've missed you!"_

I looked up, "Hey!" I stood up and let her arms wrap around me, taking refuge in her warmth.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the lounge." She kissed my cheek before resting her chin on my shoulder. "Anthony had an _amazing_ performance tonight! It was definitely something… different!"

"Don't worry." I pulled back and smiled at Liz. "You didn't miss out on anything tonight."

"_I'm always missing out when I'm missing you."_ I brushed her black bangs aside and kissed her fully, softly and slowly nibbling on her lower lip. I knew she could taste the alcohol on my breath, and I could taste the vanilla hookah on hers. _"Ahh… where have these lips been my whole life?"_

I subtly pulled back the second my Ashley-filled thoughts began to creep into my head. Now she's become my own personal cockblock!

I grabbed Liz's hands, watching our fingers intertwine. She couldn't help but gawk at my lips, wanting more. "Let's go inside. I wanna hear about your night." I smiled.

"Okay." Her voice was barely audible. She let me lead the way.

I turned and squeezed her hand firmly, hoping she'd take away this burning feeling… whatever it was.


	10. Chapter 10: Cartesian Dualism

_**Well, hello again! :) My sincerest apologies that it has taken RIDICULOUSLY long for me to update! I'm HOPING it will not take this long again, seeing as how school life has toned down quite a bit. Oh and HAPPY NEW YEAR lol... better late than never! I was struggling a lot with this chapter, mostly because it came off as super awkward and wasn't up to where I wanted it to be. I'm still feeling iffy about it, but hopefully I will make it up to you with better chapters in the future :)**_

_**Just wanna say THANK YOU soooo much for reading and/or reviewing... and having such patience with me! I appreciate every ounce of support and just wanna give ya one more good fic to read :D**_

_**Enjoy! ;) 1.16.11**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters. However, I do own the stanzas in the beginning of this chapter from a poem called "Undying Love."**_

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"_Your smile is that of sensation,  
__Of sweet sunrays dancing in the sky."_

I sighed softly, rubbing my eyes as I rolled from my side onto my back. My mind could only comprehend two things: the light on my nightstand was on… and it's ridiculously early that I bet my alarm clock's not even awake.

"What are you doing?" My voice rasped as I still felt dazed from deep sleep.

"Go back to sleep." Liz whispered. "It's early." I blinked hard before squinting to look at her lying on her stomach, jotting something down in a small notebook.

"How early?" I shielded my eyes.

She looked over at my alarm clock. "About 5:30 in the morning."

I slammed the pillow over my head, simultaneously groaning. It was maybe a second later when I could feel weight shifting over me and nothing but impish thoughts filling her mind. Liz lifted the pillow as I barely opened my eyes. She smiled at me as if it was Christmas morning, her black bangs hanging forward over one eye. It was sexy.

"_Your eyes are those of stars glistening by,  
__Of mysterious temptations."_

I could fall in love with her poems.

"What are you doing up so early… on a _Monday_ morning?"

She looked at me as if it was super obvious. "We have class."

"In about three hours!" I playfully threw the pillow at her.

"Hiya!" She feigned a karate block.

"Oh my gosh… go back to sleep!" I half whined, half laughed at her silly pose.

"Did I forget to mention I'm a morning person?"

"Clearly." I readjusted my head. "What were you writing?"

"Poetry. I was inspired in the moment."

"What moment?"

"_Your face is that of serenity,  
__Of some great relief to my troubled mind."_

She smiled again as she lay herself on top of me. "This one." She whispered before placing her lips on mine, which I gratefully accepted.

"_Your lips are those of the soft flower kind,  
__Of a tinge of perfection in the brevity."_

I sighed, partially turned on by her creativity with words.

She pulled back, still hovering over me and leaving with the fresh scent of Listerine on my lips.

I made a quick glance at my alarm clock that still hasn't gone off. "I hate you." I whispered, but with a small smile.

"No you don't." Liz giggled before lightly kissing my lips again.

"And that's gross." I quickly covered my mouth with my comforter. "How can you kiss someone with morning breath?" I muffled.

"I don't care." She shrugged. _"And they say when you don't care about the morning breath, it really must be love."_

Love? Is it really?

I've grown to like Liz… a lot. We've only dated for several weeks, but nearly every second of my day, it does feel like love. Maybe that's the honeymoon stage talking. There were so many occasions where she'd want to tell me that she loves me, but she always stops herself, thinking it's too soon. She doesn't want to rush things. We see each other nearly everyday, and when we're not with each other, we're texting back and forth or talking on the phone. We go on amazing dates. She spends the night. I spend the night. And, yet, I stop myself because I need to be sure. Sometimes it's too good to be true. I have to be sure it's the real thing. That _she's_ the real thing.

"_Most of all, it's really love when you feel comfortable enough to rip one in front of each other."_

I giggled underneath the covers.

"What's so funny?"

"You're silly." I pulled her down into an embrace, staring at her fingers entwined with mine.

"_Your hands are those of strong desire,  
__Of security around mine."_

She sighed, succumbing to my warmth and allowing loving words to linger at the tip of her tongue before holding it in as she quietly cleared her throat. I ran my fingers through her soft black hair, thinking of nothing past this moment.

"_Your touch is that of cold winds confined,  
__Of the entrapment of burning fires."_

Because in this moment, it felt like love. And I wanted to let it be… and not think about what it had to mean.

"_Your soul is that of a beautiful gift from above,  
__Of complete clarity in morning dew."_

And we stayed this way, listening to each other's calming sighs. Neither of us thought of this moment as inadequate…

"_And so my heart is that which beats and thrives for you.  
__It is that, tainted with undying love."_

Only Perfect.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Liz sat up and shut my alarm off, the clock now showing it was 6. She brushed her bangs aside, looking down at me from her straddling position before pulling the collar of her round-necked sweater over her exposed shoulder.

"I'll go make us some breakfast, 'kay?" She sounded relaxed. I nodded as she let go of my hand and made her way off the bed. When she opened the door, I caught a glimpse of Madison dragging herself into the kitchen.

"You're up early." Liz narrated.

"Well," Madison yawned loudly, "who could sleep last night with all that _noise_ you two were making?"

Noise? I pulled my covers above my head, hiding my embarrassed demeanor.

"Wh-whaaaat?" I could practically hear Liz's cheeks redden as she failed to deny it. "Must've been the damn neighbors. How inconsiderate of them!"

I tried hard to stifle my giggling.

"Uh-huh." Madison grabbed the coffee grind canister out of the cupboard and poured some into the coffeemaker. "It's unfortunate you can't call in a noise complaint on your own roommate."

I got up and put my robe on before walking out into the living room. "Think of it as retribution for all those times you and Aiden kept me up with your animalistic sex marathons."

"Well, look who's alive!" Madison placed her hands on her hips, diverting her sarcastic remarks in my direction. "I'm surprised you could even walk."

"I should say the same thing about you!" I sat on the barstool, arbitrarily browsing the Nordstrom catalog on the countertop as Liz started rummaging the kitchen to cook some eggs and bacon. "Ashley and I had to carry you home last night."

"Spence," she raised a brow at me, "that was Friday night. It's Monday morning."

I stopped to think for a second. "Oh." I looked back down at the catalog just to divert my eyes and any feelings of embarrassment. "My, how time flies."

"_Yeah, when you're fucking like bunnies."_

I picked up the catalog and flung it at Madison. She managed to dodge the flying object as it hit the toaster next to Liz.

Madison stuck her tongue out at me and burst into laughter, "Sucka!"

Liz turned around, "Geez, what was that all about?" She handed the catalog back to me as Madison poured water into the coffeemaker.

"Nothing." I continued to shoot daggers at Madison. "She's just being an asshole."

She continued snickering to herself as she walked past us to go to her room.

By the time Liz and I got to class, we were already 20 minutes late and had to tiptoe our way to some empty seats in the back of the lecture hall. We got caught up in a make-out sesh over breakfast after Madison had left for work. I couldn't recall if we even finished eating or when it was that we had actually progressed to the shower, but it was really hard to get ready without being so attached to one another. I mean, we practically multitasked the copping of feels and brushings of teeth, which only delayed things once we started having a toothpaste fight. Everything was just super sensual and addicting. Like a drug. And I didn't want to part from it. Not even for a second. Yeah, we're soooo in the lovey dovey stage.

"So, what'd we miss?" Liz whispered to me as she plopped down in her seat.

"You're asking _me_?" I whispered back. "Your bad habits are starting to rub off on me."

"And vice versa. I've never licked toothpaste off of someone before. Whipped cream? Yes. Toothpaste? No."

We both laughed quietly, which immediately stopped the second Steinhaus gave us the usual look.

"Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs is a model that can be classified as such." He drew the red pointer up and down the large projection screen displaying the hierarchy pyramid on Powerpoint. "The foundation of the pyramid starts with physiological needs. Food and water. Then, we move up to safety, shelter and stability." Steinhaus waddle across the stage to stand behind the podium. "Once a person has attained these two levels, he or she can then attempt to gain a sense of love and belonging, followed by esteem, success and status." He dabbed his forehead with his hanky. "And finally, self-actualization as the pinnacle of the model, is defined as a higher sense of self, which is something that is very difficult to attain."

I looked over at Liz who never seemed to take any particular interest in psychological theory. She just needed the class for the units. Lately, she'd spend class time doodling on my notebook or writing poetry for open mic nights at The Poetry Lounge. She started writing a new poem that sounded very much like a political satire on global economy.

But, even though Psych is just my minor, it made me really think about theory and how it applied to my life… and the people in it…

"Self-actualizing individuals are characterized as having the ability to easily distinguish between what's true and what's false. They're normally driven by finding solutions to problems outside of themselves. They are comfortable being alone, but have very healthy personal relationships with a small group of close individuals. They also tend to be spontaneous and creative, and can usually exercise a certain degree of free will as they're not overly bound by social conventions." Steinhaus paused to pocket his hanky. "Ultimately, self-actualizing individuals' needs are fulfilled and they have a great sense of self, as it relates to the surrounding world that they are a part of."

…And at that moment, one particular person came to mind.

"Before we end class, I just wanted to remind you all that your personality theory papers are due in two weeks." Steinhaus attempted to speak up louder than all the commotion of everyone packing up their things to leave. "And please stop by during office hours if you need feedback before turning them in. Have a good week!"

Liz stood up and flung the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Hey, wanna grab lunch when I get out of class around 12:30?"

"Sure!" I lifted my backpack. "Call me when you're out so I know where to meet you."

"Yeah, and I need to copy your notes, too."

"Well, what do I get in return?"

"I can think of many things." She smirked, as she thought many a _dirty_ things. "But you should go before you're late for class."

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckled before hugging her, "you and your dirty mind. That could take hours."

"Ha," she feigned embarrassment as she let me go, "I'll see _you_ later."

The sun was out this morning, but thankfully, there was a nice breeze going to keep me cool as I power-walked at medium pace to my next class. I couldn't help but think that I was partly looking forward to seeing Ashley. It was more of a feeling that a thought, especially because I couldn't explain why. I just did.

And then I thought of how teachers used to make bad kids write the same phrase over and over again on the chalkboard, so as to discipline them into not doing a certain action again. I pictured myself writing the same phrase on a chalkboard. _I will not let her ninja me. I will not let her ninja me. I will not let her ninja me._

When I walked into the lecture hall, this overwhelming feeling of urgency took over. I briefly looked around to see if I could spot her, but at the same time, I didn't want to seem so overeager. In the two seconds that I didn't find her, I resorted to sitting relatively near where we'd sat last time she got kicked out of class. Perhaps she would be a creature of habit. But, then again, the girl _is_ unpredictable.

Why am I investing so much thought into this one person?

I placed my backpack in the aisle seat next to me… you know… just in case. Professor Weihmeier stood at the podium, preparing the material he was going to lecture on, and it was not surprising that everyone's thoughts centered around everything but school… _"Two bags of _Cheetos_ should suffice as a meal substitute, right?" "Ugh, I _hate_ her. Why do I even talk to her?" "Why is Weihmeier wearing that tie?" "I should've ditched class to go tanning and shopping before the party tonight!" "I wonder what kinda panties she's wearing." "She's a cold, heartless bitch. She deserved contracting gonorrhea." "Did I forget to unplug my curling iron?"_ I pulled my notebook out and arbitrarily flipped through my phone, periodically glancing around, yet trying not to be so obvious.

"Is this seat taken?" A familiar voice resonated in my ears, vanquishing all thoughts and deafening all conversations I could hear in the room. I looked up at her, somewhat taken aback and I couldn't comprehend why. After all, I was anticipating this. She smiled… the way she always does. And I wondered what she was thinking. Her eyes gazed back down to my backpack. "Stupid question," Ashley scoffed to herself, "of course it's taken." She turned to find another seat.

"A-actually," I blurted, "you're in luck." I shrugged before pulling my backpack off and placing it on the floor between my feet.

"Alright," she smiled again and it only made me even more intrigued. "It's perfect actually." She exhaled as she sat down. "I can easily escape in the event that Dan kicks me out again." We smirked at each other and all the while, I felt something tugging inside my chest. I took a deep breath, directing my attention forward.

Maybe that burning hasn't subsided.

No, you know what? It's probably just heartburn.

I will not let her ninja me.

"I will not let her ninja me."

"What?" Dammit!

"Huh?" I briefly looked at her.

"Did you say something?"

"Nope!" My head went down as I attempted to look preoccupied with writing in my notebook. And all I wrote was today's date.

"How's Madison doing?"

"She's good." I started to doodle other things on the blank page. Flowers, butterflies, my name. "Minimal hangover."

"That's good to hear! We should do it again sometime." Eh. "You had fun, right?"

"Yeah." I arbitrarily responded. Why wouldn't I have fun? I continued to squint at my doodling, adding some shading to the petals and acting as disinterested as possible.

"I'm sorry about that crazy chick."

I finally looked at her. "What crazy chick?"

"The one who practically stripped your clothes off."

I felt my cheeks flush for a second. "Oh, that wasn't _your_ fault."

"I know, but she shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I should've stepped in sooner."

"You couldn't have known." I shrugged it off. "The important thing is that you _did_ step in."

"I'm sorry anyway," she whispered, now directing her attention forward. Something tells me she might have been apologizing for something else.

"Alright, let's get started, shall we?" Weihmeier's voice echoed from the loudspeakers. "Today, we'll be discussing freedom in terms of the Cartesian Dualism principle. Anyone know the meaning behind Descartes' theory?" He began to pace across the stage. One student in the front section raised her hand, catching the professor's attention. "Yes?"

"Descartes' dualism theory poses the idea that although the rational mind controls the body's functions and actions, the body can also control the supposedly rational mind."

"Right." He paused before switching back the other way. "So, how can we _free_ human beings have true freedom if our rational minds aren't always the source of control?" Weihmeier paused again, waiting for contention. "In other words, are we truly free if our bodily functions and physical actions occur without our actual decision to do so?"

Another student raised his hand and immediately replied, "well, my heart is beating and my lungs are breathing without me actually deciding to do so."

I was very briefly distracted as I noticed Ashley checking her purse for her cell phone, and quickly reading the text message she received.

"True, but your brain is still regulating that bodily function. Your rational mind is still making the choice to keep you alive, even if you aren't stopping to think about it." The corner of Weihmeier's mouth curled upward as he placed one hand on the knot of his necktie.

"Pathetic." Ashley mumbled, seemingly bored with the topic at hand.

"What?" I turned to her.

"Dan's getting all cocky and overconfident. You can tell when he shakes the knot of his tie and talks with a condescending tone."

"I guess you've had your fair share of classes with him to notice, huh?" I tried to incite perhaps some information on why she seems like she's taken every class the university has to offer.

"He's just trying to boost his ego after being rejected, yet again, for a teaching fellowship at Stanford."

Another student spoke up, "So, you're saying that if I were to, _hypothetically_, get drunk and act out of sheer passion by hooking up with some random chick, I have no freedom because I didn't make the rational decision to do so?" The class laughed.

Weihmeier, also slightly amused, placed his hands on his hips, "Yes, Descartes would say that."

"I _love_ Descartes!" The male student announced as most of the class laughed harder, while some ladies made mental notes not to come across that guy… ever.

"Oh, _please!_" Ashley stood up as the class quickly quieted down and turned to look at the bold brunette. Here we go again. "Acting out of 'sheer passion' (yes, she used quotation marks) is just an excuse this Cartesian groupie is using to get into a girl's pants."

"Miss Davies—"

"No!" She held up her hand. "I have a point to make."

"Then make it quickly and respectfully." His tone became stern.

"Passion is such a fairytale." Ashley stepped into the aisle and began to lecture the class. "If this douchebag," she pointed at the baffled student, "were to drink to inebriation, he already exercised the freedom and knowingly made the decision to do so, regardless of the repercussions that would result from such a choice." She paused. "So, Dan, you're missing a huge factor of Cartesian Dualism… which is timing of the rational mind to make decisions that would influence the body. Descartes is wrong."

"Hmm. That's _one_ opinion." Weihmeier was stumped, yet again. I could hear his mind spinning.

"The body cannot influence the mind because at the root of it all, the mind still makes the ultimate decisions." Ashley pressed on. "In other words, if your neck detested that abhorrent tie, it would have no freedom of choice but to obey your supposedly rational mind in wearing it." Half the class laughed and the other half gasped in shock at her audacity. She always pushes too far. Whether she means to or not is still a mystery.

"OUT!" The enraged Weihmeier yelled. "And _don't_ return to my class until you can have the decency to be respectful to myself and your peers!"

She smiled so haughtily, grabbing her belongings and making her way out the back entrance. And again, I found myself grabbing my things and following thereafter. Déjà vu much?

Ashley scuffed her boots on the somewhat damp pavement as she walked over to the nearby tables and placed her belongings next to her. She reached into her purse for her phone and cigarettes before sitting down.

"Would it kill you to be nice to Weihmeier?"

"Yes," she placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it, "and I'm too young to die." She took a quick drag and blew the smoke away from me before turning in my direction.

"You know, I don't mean to sound like a Cartesian groupie or anything," I smirked as I sat next to her, "but, that guy did have some logic about acting out of passion."

"Really?" Ashley scoffed. "You believe that bullshit?"

"I just… know what it's like to not have to think about how you feel. You kinda just… go with your emotions even if they don't make sense."

"So, that night at the Dubliner when you kissed me," she paused as I started to blush profusely, "that was an act of sheer passion?"

"No," I didn't know how to defend myself when she could easily call me out like that. "I was drunk. That was different."

"Please," Ashley grinned. "You _wanted_ to kiss me." Before I could speak up, she caught me off guard, yet again. "It's okay. I'm not saying I regretted it." She continued to smile at me. I took a deep breath, not knowing why there was this tightening, burning sensation in my chest.

"Well," and here is a perfect example of Cartesian Dualism where my mouth speaks before rationality can filter it out, "considering I detest smokers and the taste of ashtrays, I'm surprised I didn't regret it either." My eyes grew wide as the words I spat began to sink in to my rather dense brain. "Or, I mean… you know… how is it possible to regret something I don't even remember?" Terrible save. Sometimes, I shouldn't say words!

"Whatever you say." Ashley giggled to herself and continued to smoke her cigarette, forfeiting any decision to continue arguing with me. "So, what are you doing out here anyway, besides pointing out my bad habits?"

My eyes widened for a quick second… because I was honestly stumped. Why _did_ I follow her out?

"I-I… uh… wanted to ask… for your help."

"Yeah?" Ashley sat up, somewhat intrigued. "With what?"

"With my paper." I said with such conviction. I'm getting a little better with these improvisations. "For Personality Theory."

"Hmm. Personality Theory, huh?" She took another drag as I nodded. "With Steinhaus?"

I nodded again. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I took that class. Steinhaus is a tough grader." Ashley sat there with a contemplative look.

"Tell me about it." I scoffed. "How'd you do?"

"Got an A." She said it as if getting an A in his class was as easy as breathing.

"Great!" I sat up with a hopeful expression. "So, you'll help me then?"

I felt like a complete dumbass because she just sat there and stared at me unresponsively, and I began to wonder if I'd said anything to offend her. It's one thing for me not having the ability to read her thoughts. But, it's a whole other thing when she consciously decides not to acknowledge certain words that come out of my mouth, especially when they end in question marks. Way to add to her already perplexing persona!

"I guess that's a no." I muttered before I got up and grabbed my belongings.

"Where are you going?" Ashley dropped the rest of her cigarette on the ground before stepping on it.

"Back to class, I guess."

"I got a better idea." She stood to meet my gaze. "Jton texted me that she's at the Beverly Center with Madison. Wanna ditch class with me?"

"What are you guys? The three best friends that anyone could have?" I smirked at my sarcastic remark.

She shrugged. "It seems Madison likes to hang with the gays."

I laughed. "So she does! Sure, I'll go."

"Good. I'll drive." She flipped the keys in her hand.

The car ride was an odd one, to say the least. And I began to question why I never offered to drive myself separately. The extremely quiet hum of the Prius only made the silence in the air even louder. I was actually gratefully for the humming engine and the pounding sound of the tires hitting the bumps and potholes in the road. After a lifelong custom of hearing thoughts pass in and out of my mind like a busy airport, it was odd to find myself surrounded by someone else's cloak of silence.

"What's your paper about?" Ashley's voice was a nice break from the silence.

"I have to write a paper on a role model or political leader who embodies one of the personality theories. I'm leaning towards Abraham Maslow's self-actualization theory and I figured you could give me some pretty solid advice on how to write about the Dalai Lama, since you know him."

"_Knew_ him." She blurted. Her mouth gaped again to formulate words, but all she let out was a sigh before she tightened her lips.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Hold things in and not say what's on your mind."

"'Cause I can't just trust _everybody_ I talk to." Ashley scoffed. "Do _you_ always tell people what's on your mind?"

"No," I shrugged. "But, you already know you can trust me. I never told anyone your secret. And I never will."

Ashley remained unmoved. I guess it's just another typical moment where she decides not to acknowledge the words I say, much less the sincerity behind them.

"So," I shrugged, noticing her desire to change topics, "does your family live in Portland?"

"Yes." She replied so briefly before reaching out to turn the radio on.

One thing that's certain: she clearly likes to avoid conversations about herself, the accident, Portland… any of it. And I wasn't sure if she'd ever willingly talk about it.

When we got to the M.A.C. store, I could see Jton sitting in a chair with her back to us as Madison continued to apply some shadow onto the poor girl.

"Hey hey!" Ashley greeted them as we walked into the store, though they remained perfectly still, Jton especially. "The fun has officially arrived."

"Oh, no!" I shook my head, speaking to Jton. "Did Madison dupe you into becoming her latest make-up guinea pig?"

"Actually, no." Jton turned around after Madison stepped back. Ashley and I instinctively gasped at the sight of lime green and turquoise eye shadow overpowering her boldly lined eyes and thick, fake eyelashes. If I didn't know any better, I would've run for the hills, screaming and flailing my arms about. "I bet that Madison couldn't do me up like a drag queen."

"You _clearly_ don't know the extent of Madison's skills." I shook my head in pity.

"I think she's proven you wrong." Ashley chuckled as Madison basked in all her glory. "You can take it off now before you scare away the customers."

"Thanks for being a good sport!" Madison handed her a make-up remover wipe as they giggled to themselves. "You don't actually have to buy me lunch though."

"Nah, we made a bet. I intend to stick to it." My ears perked and my mind tingled, only because Jton lowered her voice a smidge and I could sense her underlying intent. "I would buy lunch even if you lost." They smiled at one another while Jton continued to wipe the make-up off to a more subtle look.

"Hopeless flirt." Ashley mumbled to me as if she was reading my mind.

"Tell me about it." I mumbled back, making sideways glances at the unusual pair.

Madison turned to me, "Spence, what are you doing here? Don't you usually have class at this time?"

"Ash got kicked out of Weihmeier's class."

"Same story, different day." Ashley shrugged. "I decided to drag Spence along."

Jton squinted at us as if she was making a scientific observation. "Interesting that they were annoyed with one another last Friday, but now they're on nickname basis."

"Tell me about it." Madison nodded.

"What can I say?" Ashley glanced at me as she said so smugly, "I won her over."

"Please." I rolled my eyes. "There you go again—"

"Okay, well… I'm on break." Madison quickly interrupted. "Wanna go for coffee?"

"Sure, why not?" I responded.

"As long as it's not hodge-podge." Ashley smirked at me.

"_Oh my god..."_

I dismissed Ashley comment as I noticed Madison's mouth agape, staring hurtfully at a scene I'd often wished she wouldn't have to see.

"What is it?" Jton asked, following our glances.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Madison muttered. "Aren't there enough men in Michigan for her to throw herself at?"

Aiden strutted around the corner with one arm around what appeared to be the infamous Sasha Miller and the other bearing several shopping bags that obviously belonged to her.

"Don't tell me she's the same skanky brunette he was draping himself all over last week." I mumbled back.

"Ugh." She furrowed her eyebrows at the thought.

Madison could do nothing but act on her fiery emotions as she mouthed a well-annunciated '_fuck you!'_ to the brunette who knowingly grinned at my friend. I could hear it in Aiden's thoughts as well. He cleverly played the game well enough to press Madison's buttons.

I immediately turned to face Madison, firmly gripping both of her shoulders. "Look at me." Her angered eyes panned to mine. "He's just trying to get to you, okay? I _know_ he is. His thoughts don't lie."

"He's messing with the wrong girl!" Jton jumped up and marched out the door.

"Where are you going?" Ashley yelled after her.

"I hope she doesn't do anything stupid." I looked to Ashley.

"That makes two of us." She responded.

I turned back to Madison. "Stay here. We'll be back with Jton."

Ashley followed me out of the store to the right. We briefly noticed Jton getting off the escalator before we made our way in that direction.

"Does she have the tendency to act so rashly?" I glared back at the brunette.

"Well, she doesn't necessarily use all her brain cells when she makes decisions."

"What does she plan to do anyway?"

Ashley shrugged, "I have no idea. Maybe cuss 'em out? Jton's harmless."

"Are you always this casual about everything?"

"Only because you insist on blaming me for everything that goes wrong. I'm flattered that I'm the center of your universe and all, but—"

I scoffed. "How will we ever fit that big head of yours through doorways, Davies?"

"Ouch! Does that mean we're not on nickname basis anymore?" She feigned disappointment, placing her hands back into her coat pockets once we got off the escalator.

I decided to ignore her comments while I sifted through the many faces in the small crowds of people I weaved around.

"Jton's a big girl. She does what she wants. It's not up to me to be her mother." Ashley paused. "Besides, the guy's such a douche. You said it yourself. What does it matter what Jton does?"

I stopped abruptly in front of the _True Religion_ store and quickly backtracked towards Ashley who was casually strolling on a few paces behind me. "Because Aiden's my friend too. And as douchey as it is to be playing these stupid games by walking around with Sasha Miller on his arm, he loves Madison. He doesn't wanna do this."

"Weren't you the one who said Madison needed to get her priorities straight and make decisions for herself?" She reiterated my words from last Friday. "Well, maybe you should let Aiden do the same. After all, he is your friend, too. You said it yourself."

"Yeah, well, his priorities are all messed up right now."

"And you're going to straighten them all out, right?" She scoffed. "You do that, and I will worship the ground you walk on."

"These are _my_ friends. You don't know what's best for them."

"And _you_ do?"

"Yeah, maybe I do."

"Even if you did, it's not up to you to decide things for other people… even if they _are_ your friends."

"Watch me. They'll thank me for it in the end." I responded with such assertion.

"You know, you're kinda cute when you care too much." Her remark caught me completely off guard. And to top it off, her trademark grin dissipated my frustrations and I immediately felt perplexed.

I furrowed my eyebrows and gave Ashley a dirty look… because that's all I've got up my sleeve. I shook my head, not understanding the relevance of what she was saying. But, maybe that's the point: to get me to lighten up and think about something else for a change.

"_Is that Ashley?" _A single thought resounded in my head like a cathedral with such a vengeful tone._ "That bitch!"_

I instinctively grabbed Ashley's hand and pulled her into the corridor to my left, following the direction of the restrooms and pay phones. I could hear her breathing hard as I took another sharp turn into the door leading out into the parking garage.

"Shh." I let go and turned to brace the now closed door with both hands, carefully pressing my ear up to hear what I assumed were Yvette's footsteps continuing down the corridor to the restrooms.

"What are you doing?" She exhaled.

"Okay. She's gone." I turned and took a step in front of Ashley, now noticing her strange demeanor.

"Who?" She pressed her back against the wall and slouched a bit. Her eyes were fixated on the ground.

"Yvette."

"Oh." She placed her hands on her knees, continuing to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?"

She took another deep breath. I saw her knees begin to buckle before I reached out and held her up, her weight now leaning on me as I used the wall for leverage. I could feel her hot breath dance across my shoulder.

"Ash, what's wrong?" I grew even more concerned.

"My head's spinning and I feel all light-headed." Her grip grew a bit tighter as she leaned into me in her attempt to stand upright.

"Are you asthmatic?"

"No." She exhaled sharply. "This has never happened to me."

"Maybe you're hyperventilating." I wrapped my arm around her waist and grabbed the hand that was resting on my shoulder. "Let's find a place to sit down."

"Wait, do you feel that?" She mumbled, looking up at me.

"Feel what?" I looked into her eyes. Waiting for… I don't know what. But, now thoughts started swarming in my head. My own thoughts. They betrayed me. I could only feel her pulse beating rapidly. What was she trying to tell me?

When two people look into each others eyes this long… and within such close proximity… there's only one thing that usually results from this. I felt awkward, mostly because I knew I should've looked away, but I couldn't. And at the same time, neither did she.

"That."

"What are you saying, Ash?" I asked almost inaudibly.

Instantaneously, we heard the parking garage door quickly swing open and slam against the wall. Jton came running in, shaking her right hand and gripping her knuckles. She winced a bit before looking up at us. I could feel Ashley immediately let out of our (I don't know what to call it)… embrace. She swiped at whatever beads of sweat were gathering at her hairline before using all her energy to stand on her own. I briefly looked to her if she needed help, but she seemed to want to put some distance between us.

"Good! I found you guys." Jton trudged in front of me. "We should get out of here… now."

"What'd you do?" Ashley inquired, still looking a bit dazed.

"I knocked Aiden out." She flexed her fingers and clenched her hand into a fist, still cupping her hurt hand. "What the hell happened to you?" Jton's glances went from Ashley, to me, and then back to Ashley. She started to think I'd done something to her.

"I slipped." Ashley's weight shifted to one leg. "Big, yellow caution sign out there. Wet floors. I totally ate it."

"You alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm good." Ashley quickly sniffled to downplay her deep breathing. "Let's go." She led us out.


	11. Chapter 11: Damned If You Do or Don't

_**Hello hello, all you SUPER rockstar readers! :D I am SO happy to give you another compelling chapter to this crazy **_**Daunting Silence**_** story. Again and again, many many sincere apologies for the delay… I had to get it right! Complex storyline = complex character development. I think a lot of questions will finally get answers in this chapter ;) But thank you for being uber patient once again!**_

_**A hoot and a holler to Lone_Fenix, ConcealedAttraction, River. R, imaferrari, mutt009, BrownEyez44, Irishgrl33, Ryoko05, xxgirlcrushxx (super stoked to hear from you!), LoSTaNdDeLiRiOuS, degrassi1son, courting disaster, chunkymonkey3, LoLo06, SouthMGP91, I Talk-2-Evil Little Pixies, noodles307 and letsbefrankimawkward (thanks for coming back for this story!) - I Love love LOVE you guys! Thank you all SO MUCH for your feedback! I take it all in and appreciate it since it ultimately molds how this story is presented.**_

_**And thank you ALL for reading and/or providing feedback. I loves it! I haz mah bucket (oops… random comment just slipped)**_

_***Small note: There is a transition to Ashley's POV, which is noted by divider lines. **_

_**Hope you enjoy! :) 4.4.11**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own South of Nowhere or the characters.**_

* * *

I took a deep breath and let the sound of my heavy sigh fill the space around me. I kept the radio off and just felt completely stoic with my eyes glued to the road, despite the fact that sunlight would periodically beam in through hovering tree branches. I remained relatively unmoved.

It wasn't long until I found myself pulling into the apartment complex and parking the car. I started wondering how I ever got home on that short ride from campus, as I couldn't remember the actual drive. I shut the engine off and just sat there, thinking about what I'd been thinking the entire time: What was going on with Ashley? Am I really capable of making her sick and disoriented? Or maybe it's all just an act to downplay what I saw on the videotape. But, who can sweat on command like that?

After spinning myself in more circles around infinite and ridiculous possible explanations, I dragged myself out of the car and marched up to the front door.

I let myself in and proceeded to shut the door… only to hear a loud thud. I looked down to see a foot in the doorway! I gasped and instinctively pushed my body into the door.

"Spencer!"

I stopped myself before slowly backing up and nearly stumbling over as the force of the door swung back and collided into the wall with a loud bang.

"Geez!" I dropped my purse and looked up to see Ashley standing there, looking somewhat haggard.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Ash, wh-what—"

"Can I…?" She gestured, half-assing her attempt at asking permission to come in. I grabbed my chest, still catching my breath. Ashley just shook her head as if I were taking too long to respond, and just let herself in before shutting the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" My feet drove me backwards into the living room.

She picked my purse up and placed it on the kitchen countertop. "I need to talk to you." She responded in such a grave tone as she proceeded to pace rather quickly in my direction. My feet continued to drive me backwards into the hallway.

"I-I don't—" I held my hands up.

"Can you _please_ stand still for a second so I can talk to you?"

"Can you give me a minute?" I blurted loudly. "You kinda startled me and I'm just trying to gain my composure here, woman!"

She stopped and stood there, staring back at me with an empty expression. "Sorry," she managed to choke out.

I exhaled what felt like air trapped in my lungs for eternity as I turned to wash my hands under some cold water in the bathroom. Running my hands under cold water always helped me regroup myself, especially when I'd endure a day of suffocation from everyone's thoughts. Except this time, I needed to regroup after suffocating from my own thoughts.

I suddenly heard the door shut quietly, looking next to me to see Ashley standing against it.

"Feeling better?" She asked in a much more calming tone.

I ignored her question. "Please don't tell me you just shut that door."

"Why?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her gaze now panning down to the doorknob. Ashley gave it a violent tug, not expecting the entire knob to come off. "Oh."

"Fuck!" I growled through my teeth as I reached in to see if I can feel the slot where the spindle was, but to no avail. I _knew_ I should've gotten this door fixed already!

"Hasn't your door been broken for awhile now?" Ashley scoffed as she started to check for loose hinges.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to get it fixed. Thanks for noticing." I sarcastically remarked.

"Where's your cell phone?" Ashley stepped back to give me some room as I grabbed the knob from her hands and attempted to re-insert it, hoping it would miraculously fix itself.

"Neatly tucked inside my purse." I tossed the useless knob into the sink and reached for tweezers in the drawer. "What's your excuse?" I gave her a dirty look before jamming the tweezers as far as the handle would let me.

"In the car."

The tweezers fell out of my hands and onto the bathroom floor.

I gave up and plopped down on the lavender rug in front of the sink, exhaling my frustrations. Ashley slowly made her way over and sat next to me, leaning against the wall I refused to look away from. I was too irritated to make eye contact.

"Don't worry." She nudged my knee. "Madison will get us out when she gets home."

"Not for another five hours," I grumbled, looking at her with disdain.

"That's fine." Ashley smirked. "Blame me for everything that goes wrong."

"Except, this time really _is_ your fault." I whined, crossing my arms over my knees. "I'm supposed to meet Liz for lunch."

"I'm sorry." She shrugged. "I didn't know the door was still broken."

"Do you normally barge into people's apartments and charge at them?"

"I didn't mean to. I just needed to talk."

"Well, we have five hours to kill." I scoffed. "What's so important?"

She hesitated, wanting to say something, but stopping herself repeatedly. I guess she was trying to find the right words? "I need to know… what you are."

"What I am?" I half chuckled, half scoffed. "_You're_ asking _me_ what I am?" It came out more like a statement than a question. I then began to laugh boisterously, mostly because of the situation I've found myself in.

"Why is that such an amusing question?" She looked at me as if she really didn't know.

My, how the tables have turned. "What's it to you anyway?" I responded so haughtily.

"You're… different." Her face scrunched. "And unfortunately, it's affecting me."

My laughter died down and I cleared my throat, now taking in Ashley's serious demeanor. "So, you want me to validate whatever's affecting you so that you can convince yourself you're not crazy, right?"

"I know I'm not crazy. You're different and I want to know why." She repeated.

"Well, I'm human, if that helps any."

"C'mon, Spencer. Just answer the question."

"No! I asked you the same legitimate questions and you haven't even given me an inkling of an explanation on how you miraculously bounced off the front of an Oldsmobile and are still alive. And here you are, saying _I'm _different."

"You are."

"Because you sweat and hyperventilate near me? That's hardly an—"

"How did you know Yvette was looking for me at the Beverly Center?"

"Through the magical power of eyesight, I saw her walking towards us." I responded as if it should've been obvious.

Ashley shook her head. "No, I looked around. She was nowhere in sight."

"Whatever you say. I was just trying to—"

"And what did you mean when you told Madison that Aiden's thoughts don't lie?"

I didn't respond… other than exhaling sharply.

"And how did you know Leilani's name last Friday at the bar?"

Again, I remained silent.

"You're different." She concluded so matter-of-factly.

I sat there, staring back at her. I was at a loss for words as I cursed myself for not being inconspicuous enough. "Fine! I'm different. _You're_ different." I paused. "I read minds. You're invincible." I shook my head so nonchalantly. "So what?"

"So, you can read my mind right now?" She squinted in curiosity.

"No, I can't read your mind." I sighed, stretching my legs out. "I can read anyone's mind… _but_ yours. It's like… you're a walking fortress to me."

"And you're a walking plague to _me_." Ashley paused. "The question is 'why?'" Her eyes were still narrowed.

"Well, your guess is as good as mine."

"How long have you been able to read minds?"

"As far back as I could remember. I was born this way." I shrugged. "How long have you been invincible?"

"Since I was about 20 years old."

"When was that? Last year or so?"

"In the 80's actually."

My eyes grew wide. "The 80's?" And my mouth was agape. "So, you're technically… in your 40's?"

"Not quite." Ashley stretched her legs out to match my posture. "I was born in 1760, just before the American Revolution."

"WHAT?" Needless to say, I was just absolutely blown away! She's like… an ancient artifact, sitting right in front of me! "How's that even possible?" Stupid question, Spencer. How's anything _im_possible right about now?

"I was cursed." Ashley's face turned somber. "My whole family was. We never saw it coming."

"Your family is invincible too?"

"No," she paused briefly with a look of hurt in her eyes, "they died… long ago." Ashley began to tell the story that'd been haunting her for centuries…

* * *

I remember sitting on the cold hardwood floor, dipping cabbage heads in shallow barrels of water, trying to clean the dirt off of them. Kyla helped mother boil some carrots and potatoes. You see, in the year 1780 in Middletown, Massachusetts, there wasn't much to get by on. The American Revolutionary War had been raging on for 4 years and the British Empire had been successfully destroying many of the main ports, cutting off our supply line. It was their strategy to deplete and limit resources in hopes that the Continental Army would surrender.

I remember sitting there, trying to drown out the sounds of cannons and exploding gunpowder in the distance. It frightened me, day by day, knowing that the sounds were only growing louder as the war crept closer to my home. The sun had long set this evening, but the sky would always flash at the sight of gunfire… until it grew eerily quiet. That's when I knew that the fields ran red with the blood of slain men, and hundreds more would die the next day. We wouldn't know who'd won the battle, unless father had caught wind of it while going into town. I was fearful for the safety of my family, not knowing when or how this war would end.

My attention was drawn to the front door as I heard quick footsteps dance across the porch steps. The door swung open before father walked in and laid his rifle on the top shelf next to the doorframe. I could see the disappointment in my mother and Kyla's faces when they saw he came home empty-handed.

"No luck?" Kyla questioned pointlessly. Because of the war, the animals were constantly on the move and it made them that much more difficult to hunt. He hadn't caught a dear or rabbit for several days now.

My father sighed, shaking his head at us as he removed his coat. "Boiled vegetables and some of that dried sturgeon will do."

"We ate all that was left of the sturgeon last night." My mother grumbled. "Raef, we're going through these crops faster than we can grow them. We need to do something."

My father hardly showed any signs of concern for as long as I could remember, which is why it alarmed me when he said, "We should consider fleeing town to join your sister down south. There's not much left in town as well. Barely any bread to feed a village. The Brits are gaining more ground each day."

I was sick of the sturgeon and missed eating dried ham, but come dinner time, I would've gladly enjoyed some sturgeon with the bland vegetarian meal we were having.

After dinner, father tucked us all into bed and made sure to leave a few candles lit in our room, knowing how afraid I was. He would then take his post downstairs by the fireplace, keeping his pistol within reaching distance. I could tell that he hardly slept these days, but he did all that he could to keep us safe, despite making it very clear to the Continental Army that our family had no intention of jeopardizing our safety for their cause. At the same time, the conquering British Army had no mercy for colonists, unless they were Loyalists who pledged allegiance to His Royal Highness, or were Quakers who identified as neutral but continued their business dealings with the Brits. Our family was truly neutral, since we weren't benefiting from either side of the war. And no one contested that since we weren't seen as a threat. Regardless, I knew that one day soon, our family would be forced to pick a side.

Rain started to pour furiously against our small cottage-like home. I watched the flames on the candles dance and briefly enjoyed the soft sighs of my mother and sister near me. For a second, I felt safe. My eyelids grew heavy and stopped fighting the urge to sleep.

It felt like a few seconds later when I opened my eyes to see my mother and sister poking their heads out the bedroom door. There was a loud banging at the front door of the house, and for a moment, I hear thunder roaring, which nowadays, I easily confuse with gunfire. The loud banging continued as I followed suit with my mother and sister, peeking down the staircase to see my father approaching the door with pistol in hand.

"Who is it?" I whispered, tugging at the sleeve of Kyla's nightgown. She shrugged at me, standing closer to where my mother had braced herself against the doorframe. Kyla, for the most part, remained impassive and was often a quiet soul these days. I was often proud that my 19-year-old younger sister was no longer a child I had to shelter from the reality of it all. She was very strong and courageous, and I'd often confided in her about my fears on the war, only to be met with reassuring words. At the same time, I missed our youthful days. She smiled a lot more back then. We all did.

I saw my father crack the door open just a smidge. I could hear him mumbling something before he pulled the door open further. There, we saw a family huddling together under a wet blanket that poorly shielded them from the pouring rain – a father, his son the eldest, his wife, and two daughters who looked like they were much younger than Kyla. It turned out that this family aided in an attack on a British supply convoy and they were now looking for shelter, since the Brits still occupied the area even though the majority of the army headed south to further regain control of areas that were predominantly Loyalist.

I could barley make out what they were discussing, but I heard my father clearly say, "We don't fancy trouble around here."

"We will be gone by daybreak after the storm, I assure you." The tired, old man pleaded. "The King's men were transporting tea, bread and dried ham. Open your home to my family and we will leave you a generous share of the food." My father hesitated, but knew that the share would be enough to feed us before we fled south.

My father nodded and took a step back to welcome the family into our home. Mother finally made her way downstairs and offered the family some wool blankets to dry themselves as they sat by the fire. Kyla and I followed closely as the eldest son, Ruben, and his father, Joseph, lifted a heavy crate across our kitchen, placing it in our cupboard as my farther directed. Kyla, with her amiable spirit, smiled gracefully and introduced herself to the two little girls: Annie and Georgette. Kyla always seemed to get along well with children. Marie, the matriarch of the family, helped my mother make tea from the stolen stash.

Although I never doubted that my father knew what was best for our family, something didn't settle right with me about taking them in. I briefly introduced myself to the family before I retreated back to bed. I was too tired to entertain our new guests.

Sometime during the night, I woke up in a panic hearing thunder shake our home… only it wasn't thunder; it was the sound of soldiers' footsteps. It sounded like hundreds were swarming the porch that wrapped around our little abode.

I gazed over to where my mother and Kyla were standing by the door as they did before, only this time the door was shut tightly and their ears were pressed against it.

"What's going—"

Kyla immediately shushed me with a stiff finger to her mouth. I shimmied out of bed, quietly shuffling over to press my ear against a hollow part of the door. I could only hear voices mumbling, one of them I recognized as father's.

"Mr. Davies, we are here under the official order of His Majesty to search for any men who've wronged our good King in such acts of treason." Sir Henry Clinton's voice boomed.

"I understand." Father replied. "But, what business do you have here? Neither myself, nor my family have committed such treacherous deeds. We notably distance ourselves from the patriotic cause and wish to promote peace around our home."

"The King's supply caravan was attacked by mobs of patriots yesterday morning, and we believe some of them may have fled in this direction. Do you have any information on their whereabouts?"

My father paused. "No, sir." He mumbled. There was an even longer pause, and all I could hear was the downpour of rain on our rooftop and porch.

I was perplexed. "Where's the family?" I whispered to Kyla.

"Hiding beneath the house. We rushed them through the cellar door when we heard the Brits coming."

"Come with me, Mr. Davies." The British officer commanded.

My sister's voice quivered. "Where are they taking him?"

"I don't know, Kyla." I instinctually moved to the other side of the room towards the window, recognizing the footsteps were sounding from the side of the house. I couldn't see anything except for the silhouette of soldiers standing post in the yard. My mother and Kyla darted towards me and sat by the window where we could hear the conversation continue.

"Mr. Davies, you do know that by the King's mandate, we can willingly search your home if we have reason to believe you're harboring enemies of the British Empire." Sir Clinton lowered his voice. "If we do gather evidence of such treason, we will act accordingly." He paused again, awaiting a reply. I swallowed hard, seeing as my father was understandably quiet. "I hear you have a lovely family… a beautiful wife and two adoring daughters."

"What of it?" My father snarled.

"I would hate for anything bad to happen to your family at the expense of hiding another." He paused before lowering his voice once more. "If you provide us with the information on the patriots' whereabouts, I assure you no harm will come to you or your family." The situation was extremely intense, and I was more fearful for my father's life than my own.

"They're…" my father paused. I didn't recognize his voice at that moment since I've never heard it laced with fear. He always seemed like a confident man… up until then at least. "Inside... through the cellar door."

Suddenly, I heard high-pitched screaming as footsteps sounded towards the front door. The family was making a run for it, hearing of my father's betrayal.

"Fire at will!" Another officer commanded.

I sat there, motionless and deaf to the barrage of bullets and exploding gunpowder downstairs. What I had feared the most had actually rendered me callous. I was truly beside myself, unable to grasp what was actually happening. My eyes remained pinned on my mother and Kyla who'd curled into frightened little balls, screaming and covering their ears to drown out the horrific noise. They did everything they could to shun themselves from the reality of the situation, while I unknowingly soaked it all in. It just wasn't processing in my mind for me to even react as such.

When the gunfire had ended, I heard short footsteps slapping against the muddy grass towards the backyard. "She's getting away! Hurry!" Sir Clinton's voice sounded from the back.

It wasn't until I heard another set of footsteps rummaging up the staircase that I quickly scooted myself closer to my huddling family, fearful that we would share the same fate.

"Christine!" My father barged in. He quickly made his way towards us. "Are you all okay?" I got up and wrapped my arms around my father's sopping wet figure. I never felt so glad to see him. Kyla jumped up and hugged us both as she sobbed into my shoulder. It felt as if someone had disconnected my vocal cords for the time being, and all I could feel was warm liquid run down my cheek. It didn't occur to me that I was actually crying the entire time.

My father let go of us. "Stay here, alright? Do _not_ come downstairs until I get you." He left us again. Apparently, the bloody mangled bodies of our guests were sprawled across the front porch and yard. Despite the fact that we'd heard everything that transpired, my father wanted to keep us far from the traumatic images of war and casualties. He willingly gave up the crate that was sitting in our cupboard and asked the British soldiers to take the bodies away. In return, Sir Henry Clinton and his men spared our lives.

None of us were able to get any sleep for the remainder of the evening, or early morning for that matter. By daybreak, the rain had stopped and the morning fog set around our house like an opaque blanket. Everything seemed eerily quiet around us, even before father said it was okay to come downstairs. We hesitantly did so, me especially since the previous night's events began to sink in heavily. Aside from the footprints in the mud, it didn't appear anyone had ever been here.

Later on in the day when father left us to go hunting, I continued to sit by the fire and let the steady crackling of the log calm my anxious mind. I couldn't wait until we moved down south. Though I found absolute serenity in the day's peaceful ambience, violent memories continued to haunt me. In my eyes, the house was tainted.

I slowly moved the wool blankets surrounding me and brought the rocking chair to a halt the second my ears perked at the sound of very faint footsteps across the front porch. I tiptoed to the front door, the wooden floor quietly creaking below my feet. Silence ensued as I carefully cracked the door open. I was immediately startled at the sight of deep red blood splattered across the front steps. Several feet from the base of the staircase stood the dark figure of the second youngest daughter, Georgette. Her feet and clothes were all covered in mud, hands tainted with blood. Her dark hair was all matted and her eyes, which I will never forget, were bloodshot and fixated on me with such a hateful glare. I could hear her mumbling something that didn't even sound like any language I'd ever heard of. I called for my mother and Kyla as Georgette's chanting grew louder by the second. They came running down, also appalled at the sight in front of our home.

"You betrayed us! You betrayed us for your own selfish reasons!" She snarled in such spite, sticky saliva dripping from her lips like a ravenous beast. "Your home is tainted by the blood you spilled, the blood of my family. And everyone who sees it will know what you've done. My family will never know peace, and neither will you. You will only know suffering all the days of your selfish little lives!"

"Get out of here!" My mother screamed, threatening to run after her. Georgette quickly ran off, not because she was afraid but because she finished what she intended to do.

I didn't know it at the time, but Georgette had put a curse on our family. Apparently her ancestors were survivors of the Salem Witch Trials. Practicing black magic was in their blood.

Strange things that were hardly coincidental began happening soon after. For one, the blood on the porch would never wash off. Just when we thought we scrubbed most of it off, puddles would appear the next day. It's almost as if the steps would bleed on their own.

On a dreadful evening within the same month, villagers came by our house bearing the worst news I'd ever heard: my father had been shot and killed while he was out hunting. Apparently, he got caught in a cross-fire between the Brits and the patriots. It came as a surprise to me and it made no sense whatsoever, since my father was very attuned to his surroundings and had always avoided feuding grounds.

In the weeks that followed after, all the crops we grew would go bad before we could even pick them. We finally decided that we were ready to venture south. But before we could leave, my mother contracted smallpox. She suffered for two grueling weeks before passing. We couldn't find any medical treatment for her. A week later, Kyla contracted smallpox and died just as quickly.

I'd never felt so alone. I was certain that I would come down with the smallpox as well. However, months passed and nothing had happened to me. I felt hungry, but everything was dead around me. My whole world was dead.

I tried hanging myself several times, but it never worked. I figured that perhaps I was doing it wrong. Maybe the knot wasn't tied right to break my neck. I stabbed myself with my father's bayonet, but that didn't work. I finally decided to set the house on fire… with me in it. Childhood memories would play in my head as I sat with blazing fire surrounding me. For a moment, the thought of rejoining my family in the afterlife brought a sense of tranquility. The house came down piece by piece; at least the tainted porch was finally incinerated. The flames engulfed me, immediately turning my clothes into ash. Other than that, nothing changed; I was still alive.

Obviously, that's when I realized I was invincible. I just hoped it would wear off at some point.

* * *

As she finished the story, I noticed her glance down to my hand, which was resting on her leg.

"I'm sorry," I quickly lifted my hand.

"No, it's okay." Ashley briefly smiled. "That didn't do anything." She leaned forward, now repositioning herself to sit cross-legged next to me.

"Well, I'm really sorry about what happened to your family."

She didn't respond. We sat there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes and I was only intrigued to know what she was thinking. She then advanced forward until her face was maybe an inch or two away from mine, and I immediately felt my heart skip an odd beat. Instinctively, I brought my head back, sounding a rather loud thud the second the back of my head met the drawer beneath the sink.

"Oww!" I winced.

"Hmm." Ashley moved back a bit.

"What?"

She sniffed, "Your breath and your scent don't affect me either."

"That's a weird thing to check for." I rubbed the back of my head.

"Well, you never know what the exact kryptonite might be."

I giggled, "I brush and floss twice a day and I shower daily, thank you very much."

"And you're prone to bumping your head." Ashley smirked, lightly brushing my bangs to the side before running her fingers through my hair. Her fingers continued to graze the length of my long sleeve and came to a rest as she lightly grasped my forearm. "Perhaps it's just a skin-to-skin contact type of… kryptonite."

It finally occurred to me that she was quick to change the subject. I didn't have to be a mind-reader to pick up on the fact that she didn't want to dwell on her cursed past. "Perhaps." My eyes briefly panned down to her hand and back to her eyes. She slowly let go as I gripped my upper arms and huddled into the warmth of my knees. By now, it had to be late in the afternoon to early evening, considering my stomach was grumbling a second time since we'd been locked in.

"Are you cold?"

"Just a little." I instinctively nodded, though something in her delicate tone made me feel far from cold. "So, at what point in your life did you live in Tuscany?"

"Later that year when the French became more involved in aiding the Continental Army, I hitched a ride to Europe on one of their supply ships." Ashley slid her coat off and spread it across my upper body, draping the collar over my shoulders. "I lived in Paris until 1789 when the French Revolution took place. Then, I moved to Tuscany."

"And what about Tibet?"

"Oh," she shrugged, "that wasn't until almost a hundred years later in the late 1800's." She said so matter-of-factly. I was utterly intrigued on how worldly she was.

"Tell me about the Dalai Lama." My curiosity beckoned.

"Well—"

Instantaneously, I could hear the front door unlock and footsteps coming in as the door swung open. Ashley and I sat up listening inquisitively as we heard someone toss keys on the countertop. There was some indistinct mumbling.

"Spence?" Madison's voice echoed.

"We're in here!" I banged on the door as Ashley jumped up. She reached her hand out and I instinctively grabbed it, not thinking things through. Shit.

"The knob is broken!" We heard from the other side of the door. Go figure!

She gasped as she pulled me onto my feet. I felt Ashley lunge forward, losing her footing again. The both of us nearly tumbled over as we found ourselves in this awkward embrace once more.

"Stand back. Let me see if I can push the door down." Liz's voice alarmed me.

Ashley struggled to lean her hands on the sink that her body was pushing me up against. Her chin dug into my shoulder while I held her waist to keep her from falling.

"I'm dizzy," she whispered, her chest heaving against mine.

We heard a big thud against the door.

"Ash, stand up!" I whispered loudly. The way we were… with Ashley pressed into me like this… wasn't a good look for us.

Ashley finally gained her footing and stepped off of me, her hands still on the sink. She swallowed hard, her eyes piercing mine and slowly glancing down to my lips. She was mere centimeters away, enough for me to breathe her air.

We heard another loud bang and a small cracking noise. I turned my head and noticed the doorframe was successful breaking.

I then felt Ashley grab my chin to turn my glances back to her hooded eyes. She came a little closer and I shut my eyes tightly before gently pushing her off of me. I didn't have time to think about what was about to happen. All I could think about was Liz and how I would never do that to her.

One more forceful shove and a piece of the frame broke as the door swung open. Liz grunted as she stumbled in a bit, grabbing her right shoulder.

I let out a long sigh, mostly because that was close! One second sooner, and we'd be caught in such a compromising position! Geez… what was Ashley _thinking_? If only…

"There you are!" Liz stopped to catch her breath as a smile slowly spread across her face. I think the only one who wasn't out of breath at this point was Madison, peeking her wavy-haired little head in to assess the situation.

Her eyes darted to a somewhat flustered brunette, leaning against the wall. "Ashley, how'd _you_ get in here?"

"Had to use the nearest bathroom." She smirked nervously.

Liz glanced at Ashley. _"Who the hell are you and should I be worried?"_

"It was all a big accident." Ashley's nervousness was obvious to me. She must've picked up on Liz's defensive body language. "Spencer and I were both racing to get to the bathroom and I accidentally shut the door without realizing it was still broken." Ashley giggled in a more natural tone. She turned to Liz and stuck her hand out, "Hi, I'm Ashley."

"Liz," she smiled sincerely, briefly shaking the brunette's hand. "What a funny place to meet someone for the first time." Liz laughed. "It's nice to meet you though."

"Likewise." Ashley nodded.

Thankfully, Ashley's story quelled my girlfriend's jealous thoughts. I also reassured Liz by lovingly wrapping my arms around her.

"Thanks for breaking us out of here, by the way." Ashley continued. "Is your arm going to be okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'm just glad to know Spencer wasn't standing me up for lunch." She chortled.

"Well, Spence," Madison interjected, "I hope you finally get this damn door fixed." Her eyes gazed down the now broken frame. "Now it's gonna cost you a lot more than if you got it fixed in the first place."

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I'll pay for it." Liz grabbed my hand and escorted me out as Madison stepped aside. "I was the one who broke it down anyway."

"Well, I guess Spencer owes you then." My roommate shrugged.

Liz grinned, "I'm sure we can arrange something."

"…With toothpaste!" I laughed.

"Kinky!" Ashley smirked.

"Please! My little straight ears are burning!" Madison blurted.

"Keep telling yourself that, Mad." Ashley grinned as she picked her coat off the floor. "I know you're _totally_ feeling Jton. I could put a good word in if you want." She joked.

"What are you talking about?" Madison was baffled.

"Oh, come _on!_" I bellowed.

"Shut your face, Spence!" I've never seen her blush like that… and I'm pretty sure it's not the make-up. "Liz, can you _please_ take Spencer away and go have mad monkey sex with her? Remember, you guys haven't seen each other… all… day... _long!_"

"_You don't have to ask _me_ twice!"_ "Yes, ma'am!" I felt Liz's bangs tickle my forehead as she kissed me. She slowly walked me backwards into my room.

For a split second, my eyes blinked open at the same time Ashley happened to make eye contact with me. She quickly looked back to Madison.

"Speaking of Jton, where'd she go? I owe her one for punching my ex in the face. That was sweet of her." Madison's definition of 'sweet' is obviously skewed.

"She went home—"

Liz quickly shut the door behind us, muffling the conversation from outside. "I've missed you!" She kissed me again so hastily.

I laughed into our kiss.

She backed away for a second. "I couldn't wait 'til class was over so I could see you. I swear it was _the_ longest day… _ever!_" Her lips began to devour mine once more.

"Um," I mumbled, backing up just a bit as Liz stopped.

"What's wrong?"

I smiled. "Are we really going to have mad monkey sex right now? 'Cause I've been deprived of food all day long." I pleaded. "It really was the longest day ever." My tummy sure thought so, though in my head, it felt like time spent with Ashley was way too short. I wanted to know more… even at the expense of my growling tummy.

"Of course we don't have to right now." Liz giggled. "Let's go feed your poor starving belly."


	12. Chapter 12: Surprises and Obligations

_**OMG, 6 months later? What's wrong with me? **__**Okay, okay! I cannot resist posting this chapter anymore. I was trying to wait to write the next 2 chapters and post all at once so that there was **_really_** something worth reading with tons of new developments. So, this is a filler chapter, but I am soooo excited to write the next ones :D Bear with me! I'm still doing the school thing and unfortunately fic writing has taken a backseat to life, but I'm still at it. Sorry for the delay! **_

_**Thank you ALL so much for reading/reviewing! It certainly motivates me knowing that you're reading this still. Shouties: Avarenda, noodles207, I Talk2Evil Little Pixes, TRexPoop, Emma James, Ryoko05, imaferrari, LoLo06, courting disaster, KairiM, Harley Quinn Davidson, MusicSouth91, Irishgrl33, infamous awe (I guess it's supposed to be pronounced JAY-tawn, similar to a nickname for my bestie. But, I kinda got used to pronouncing it J'Aton. So I'll leave that to open interpretation :P), lone fenix, Elly1212 (I thought about it and I'll probably pursue it sometime later in life. Thanks for the compliment!), degrassi1son, LostandDelirious, mutt009, eternallymontyp, WillowOn3 (hope you and ConcealedAttraction are doing well!), letsbefrankimawkward (you crack me up! lol and I think this chapter will make you love Liz just a little more), Tagme07, Inkmstr10 (I'm honored, thank you!), suspenceme, SouthofNowherefanatic, TrulyUndecided, squee-shee, Your Relentless Lover, lalalalee (thanks for coming back!), casalang, and last but not least, my beta: River McSlappy! LOL (here's to the BPITW)**_

_**Enjoy! :)10.4.11**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the character. However, I **__**do**__** own the poem in this chapter (also from Chapter 10) called "Undying Love."**_

* * *

As far as I can remember.

That's what I usually tell people when they first find out about my secret… because, in all honesty, it's the first memory that comes to mind. I think when you're at that age, it's really difficult to sort the chronological order of things. Something you did when you were 4, could easily be transposed in memory with something you did when you were 3. There really was no way of distinguishing when events happened because, quite frankly, you didn't even know the concept of numbers. You didn't fully realize that 3 came before 4. When someone asks how old you are, you proudly flash your little phalanges and say, "This many!" That's what the adults tell you to do anyway.

As far as I can remember.

I was so excited that I didn't have to hold my pinky finger down with my thumb. I proudly folded my thumb over my palm and was… this many! I couldn't wait to go to Chuck E. Cheese's and play in the ball pit and have all the cheese pizza I could possibly eat. But, mom insisted that we stop by her work on the way there.

"Mommy, when are we goooooing?"

"Soon, sweetie." She didn't bother to look away from the computer.

She'd ran so many tests, more than… this many. CT scans, MRIs, you name it. This time, she put some sort of gel in different areas of my head and put this head cap on me. She plugged these skinny wires into these tiny sockets all over the cap.

"_Maybe an EEG will work."_

I glanced at her. "Mommy, what's an EEG?"

Her eyes snapped in my direction. _"She's doing it again."_

"Doing what, mommy?" I brought my legs up to sit Indian style in the chair.

She flipped a switch on some machine next to the computer monitor and turned a few small knobs before drawing the desk chair to sit in front of me.

She sat there with a troubled look, which only grew worrisome by the second. She only hoped that maybe it was temporary. She continued to sit there in silence, but I could hear everything.

"Mommy, when are we going to Chuck E. Cheese? I'm hungry." I crossed my arms and pouted.

"_We'll leave here when you can tell me how you're doing that."_

"Whoa!" I uncrossed my arms. "How did you talk without moving your mouth?"

"_I'm _not_ talking, sweetie." _She squinted. _"You're reading my mind. Tell mommy how you're doing that."_

"I'm not doing anything." I suddenly felt very small in the chair I sat in as my mother grew concerned. I felt like I was in trouble.

"_Blue cat. I'm thinking of a blue cat."_ She grasped the armrests. "What am I thinking about, Spencer?"

"I don't wanna say." I bit my mouth closed and hid my face in my little hands.

"Tell me, Spencer!" She raised her voice a bit as she swiped my arms aside. I felt so exposed and in so much trouble. I couldn't even comprehend the seriousness of the situation. One second, I am eating cereal and playing with my brothers, telling them how excited I am to go to Chuck E. Cheese for my birthday and how I want to play all these games, especially the wack-a-mole game. And I so happened to guess that dad and mom got me a Malibu Barbie dream house for all my Barbies to finally have a nice home to sleep in after a long day at the pool (aka the bathtub). At first, they blamed Glen and Clay for telling me, when really, I heard it from mom. Mom swore she never said anything. I was telling her all these things she was saying… only she wasn't saying them; she was thinking them. And the next thing I know, mom drags me to the hospital she works at and is running all these weird tests on me. My tummy's grumbling and I suddenly don't want to play all the games at Chuck E. Cheese anymore. I don't want all the pizza I can eat. I just want something to eat. Anything. I don't even think I deserve the Malibu Barbie dream house anymore. I feel like I did something terribly wrong.

"I don't wanna say, mommy!" I began sobbing quietly. "I just want to go home."

"Honey," she said calmly, realizing how freaked out I was, but still believing I had any sense of control over what was going on, "tell me what I was thinking and we'll go to Chuck E. Cheese, I promise."

I wiped at my tears, noticing how her eyes kept panning to the monitor and then to me. "You were thinking… of a blue cat." I whispered.

She stood up as the chair rolled from underneath her. She looked intently at some squiggly lines on the computer monitor, showing readings from the wires sticking out of my head. _"This doesn't make sense. Everything seems… normal."_

"If everything's normal, isn't that a good thing?" I hesitantly questioned, sniffling a bit from my sobbing fit.

Mom exhaled in frustration, palms down on the desk. She looked at me over her shoulder. "It _is_ a good thing, sweetie. All the results are normal. Only…" she turned to face me, still keeping her distance from her freakish daughter, "_you're_ not normal. Something's very different about you… and _that's_ not a good thing."

We did go to Chuck E. Cheese after that. Glen and Clay made every effort to play with me and get me to celebrate my birthday like any excited kid should. But, I resorted to eating my slice of pizza and sitting in the corner, sobbing to myself.

Whoever said that being different was a good thing?

I unlocked the door and walked through the front of the café before turning the lights on. Shortly after, Corinne walked in, casually tying her mousy brown hair up in a ponytail. Ever since Donny got fired, Corinne gladly changed her schedule to take on the early shift. I've actually been on time for work lately, only because I feel like Jenna has me under a microscope. Corinne and I aren't super close friends, but she's a decent person. So, I don't think Jenna's using her to micromanage me or anything… at least I hope not.

"Good morning, Spencer!" She genuinely smiled, although I could hear the exhaustion in her thoughts. For a second, I missed the grunts, sighs and silent conversations I would have with Donny during our early shifts.

"G'morning," I replied lethargically and tried my best to smother on a smile. I started the brewers as Corinne made her way to the cubby to put her belongings away. When she got back, she began to take the chairs off the tabletops. I quietly made an espresso concoction on the rocks and poured it into 2 plastic cups. I watched as Corinne came back around the counter to check the work schedule.

"_PM Shift with Aiden, AM Shift with Mark, AM Shift with Spencer, Spencer's Birthday… Oh!"_ She looked over her shoulder. "Spencer, happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" I handed one of the espresso drinks to her.

"Thank you!" Her eyes lit up. "You read my mind."

Indeed. I nodded.

"Any idea which day you'll be requesting work off?" Charles is kind enough to give us part-timers a freebie day of our choice for our birthdays.

"I'm taking Saturday off." It'll be nice to sleep in for once. "I try not to make a big deal out of my birthday, but I guess Charles insists on putting our birthdays on the work schedule." I leaned against the countertop and took in the vibrant smell of java steaming out of the brewers.

"Aww, it's your special day though! You gotta go all out!" She nudged me.

I snickered, "It's just my 22nd birthday. Everything's downhill after you turn 21, right?"

"Oh, come on! Life is just getting started." She smirked. "Celebrate! You deserve it."

"Thanks." I realized she wasn't going to let up. "I've got no plans yet, but we'll see where the day goes."

Her eyes panned towards the doorway and she began to smile profusely. _"How stinkin' cute is that?"_ "Yes, let's see where the day goes."

I followed her glances to the door and noticed a very awake Liz walking in with what looked like a dozen red roses. She sauntered so smugly towards the front counter as I stood there agape.

"Did you _really_ think I was gonna let you leave this morning without making a big fuss about your birthday?" She grazed her bangs aside. I've never been so hot for someone before. I actually didn't need the espresso anymore.

"_So effing cute!"_ Corinne draped her green apron on and proceeded to fill the cold milk and creamer canisters.

I had no words, but could feel my cheeks redden in such appreciation. I pranced around the counter and gave her the biggest heart-melting kiss ever. She hugged me tightly as I heard the cellophane crinkle slightly against my back.

I'm totally smitten. No one's ever done anything like this for me before.

I think I'm in love.

She grinned into our kiss before pulling away. "Happy Birthday, sweetie."

"You too… I-I mean, thank you!" I was still dazed.

Liz giggled as she presented me with the roses. "It's my pleasure."

I took in the sweet scent. "You really didn't have to though."

She looked at me incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Today is like… celebrating Christmas!"

I chuckled. "You're unbelievable."

"So, what've you got planned today?" _"Please say 'nothing.' _Please_ say 'nothing.'"_

I crumpled my eyebrows in brief and fake contemplation before shaking my head, "Nothing planned, to be honest."

"_Sweet!"_ "Alright." She nodded with assertion. "Did you want to grab lunch after your shift is over?"

"Ah, I have to stop by Steinhaus' office hours today to discuss my paper." I responded as Liz quirked an eyebrow. "You know, the one that's due next Monday?"

"Oh, right right!" Her eyes finally widened in recognition. "You can't be doing _that_ bad on your paper."

"Yeah, right." I scoffed. "Kwan said my draft was an epic fail." Not everyone (i.e. me) can write papers as well as others (i.e. my girlfriend) can. She did her paper on Freudian theory as it pertains to male dominance in the political forum. Her draft was so well written that Kwan, the teacher's assistant, practically _begged_ her not to make changes and advised her to submit it as her final paper. Damn, Liz is such a smart gal! Why didn't _I_ think of something so brilliant?

"Aww, sweetie," Liz partly pouted, "do you want me to help?"

"I might take you up on your offer. Let's see what Steinhaus has to say."

"Okay," she smiled, "Don't let him hog you too long… and don't get locked in any bathrooms. You and I have very special dinner plans." She grinned ecstatically. _"I cannot _wait _to surprise her at the Poetry Lounge. It's gonna be insanely awesome!"_

Well, at least I know she's not taking me to a place where the ketchup comes in packets… not that I mind anyway. Acknowledging that it's my birthday is already enough of a celebration really.

I gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I can't wait." I bit my lip in anticipation. I wonder what she's got up those little sleeves of hers.

"_Mmm, you're so damn cute!"_ Liz's feet shuffled towards the door, but her fingers were reluctant to let go of mine. "I'll see you later." She said seductively, yet bashfully. It was adorable.

I paced across the floor and quickly placed the flowers in an empty vase, making sure to place them in plain sight to remind me of how lucky I am to have Liz in my life.

"You two are nauseatingly cute!" Corinne squealed. "Ugh! I'm slightly jealous!" She began to grind more beans as customers began to pour in.

I'm proud to say that nothing could have brought me down. In fact, I was extra cheery and courteous to our customers, which resulted in a rather full tip jar. At one point, I serenaded a customer while I put his drink together. Corinne was astonished, but grateful nonetheless. It was a side of me that even _I_ have never seen. No matter what, I knew this was one birthday that would be anything but a disappointment.

Needless to say, my shift went by so quickly and all our customers were in such a wonderful mood, I was actually kinda sad to leave. But I've got places to be, things to do, and actual plans… _birthday_ plans… to be surprised about! Now that I think of it, can time go by any faster so we can get to dinner already?

The sun was out and the breeze was calm and refreshing. Typical Southern California weather, but for the first time, I noticed enough to be appreciative about it. I began humming the song from Cinderella, "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes"… and I kinda hoped that the chirping I heard from the trees would magically sync with the song in my head and all these colorful birds and blue jays would whisk around me and sing about. And then I'd twirl in the middle of the school plaza and everyone would break out in dance.

Yeah… that's not gonna happen. But, I can dream, can't I?

I pulled on the strap of my backpack that was slipping down my right arm as I waited for my stop on the 4th floor. The elevator dinged before the silver doors opened. I stepped out and found myself at the end of a short hallway. I ventured down the quiet white halls, glancing at room numbers.

Room 402: Professor Bob Moran

Room 403: Dr. Loretta Lewis

Room 404: Dr. Bill Steinhaus

Dr. Steinhaus' door was wide open and I could hear the very faint sound of classical music. I peeked in and noticed he was sipping on tea and intently reading some literary journal. I quietly tapped on the doorframe before he looked up at me with indifferent eyes behind his low-hanging glasses.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Steinhaus," I genuinely smiled as I greeted him.

He simply cleared his throat and quietly shut the journal before brushing off biscotti crumbs from his forest green knitted vest. "Good afternoon," he mumbled. Despite his seemingly grumpy behavior, his thoughts told me he was actually glad to have a visitor since no one had come to office hours since last week. Steinhaus adjusted himself in his seat and motioned me to take the empty seat on the other side of his somewhat cluttered desk.

"My name's Spencer Carlin, sir." I quickly slipped into the chair. "I'm in your Monday/Wednesday section?" I said in somewhat of a question to see if he'd recognize me.

"Ah, yes _(the talker from the back row)_," he nodded. He recognized me alright. "What can I help you with _(considering you spend the majority of class chit-chatting)_?"

I tried to shake off his condescending thoughts as I placed my draft on the table and wiped a pleasant smile on my face. "Well, I submitted my draft to the TA and she said I had a lot to work on. She said, at best, my paper is deserving of a C."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I don't doubt Kwan's judgment. She's currently doing her PhD dissertation on personality theory. So, she knows what she's talking about." Steinhaus said so smugly. After all, he's her mentor and close friends with her father. It comes off like she's the only student he sincerely cares about.

I bit my cheek, so as to not bark at him. "I don't doubt Kwan's knowledge. The problem is she didn't really say what I needed to work on. If anything, it sounded like she wanted me to trash the idea and start all over."

He pursed his lips in contemplation before his eyes panned down to the paper in front of me. He reached out to grab it as he pushed the bridge of his classes up. Steinhaus' eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed the first few pages.

"_I can see why Kwan would think that."_ "Hmm." He neither nodded nor shook his head. He continued to skim and I heard his thoughts critiquing every little sentence. After a few minutes, he flipped the paper back to the first page. "The problem is the person you selected to write about doesn't necessarily fulfill the Maslow personality theory described in your paper."

I shrugged. "What's wrong with the person I selected?"

"I would have selected someone else… other than Jim Carrey… to discuss the Maslow theory." I guess watching _Bruce Almighty_ while writing my paper kinda threw me off a little. It sounded like a good idea at the time. "I agree with Kwan. You should start over and select another public figure. Someone inspirational who really embodies the different stages of the Maslow Hierarchy of Needs. Describe the different events in this individual's life as they pertain to the different levels of the pyramid." He handed the paper back to me. "If you can do that and provide insightful analysis on each event, it shouldn't be short of an A." He folded his hands and genuinely smiled.

I nodded with optimism. "Thanks, professor! I appreciate all your help."

"My pleasure. I am here all week during office hours. So, come see me if you're still struggling. Kwan is also available during discussion hours."

Wow! Steinhaus isn't as bad as I'd thought he'd be. He just looks rough around the edges… and understandably gets cranky when ulcers erupt.

When I'd gotten home in the early afternoon, I noticed Madison's car in the parking port. Hmm… she must've gotten off work early. Not sure why, but I was excited to tell her about Liz surprising me this morning.

I quickly unlocked the door and pranced right in, "Mad, you will never guess what happened this morning." I grinned as I placed my belongings on the countertop.

When I looked up, I was surprised to see Ashley there. I suddenly heard footsteps scuffing the carpet in the hallway before Madison's door shut quietly.

"Hi," Ashley cleared he throat as she stood abruptly from the dining table, sliding her hands in her pockets.

Okay, that was weird. "Hey," I smiled, still surprised to see her. I wasn't really sure what to say to her after everything that happened yesterday.

"Madison," she spoke abruptly, "is in her room… changing."

I nodded, my feet still planted where I stood. "I gathered." My eyebrow quirked, both at this awkward situation and finding Madison home early. She ran away pretty quickly. I knew something was up, but Madison obviously needed her space. "She's home early." I stated the obvious as I made my way over to the couch, letting Ashley stand there in her awkwardness.

"Yeah. Her boss let her out early. So, we decided to hang out." I noticed her shoulders slump a bit as she found it in herself to relax.

"Hmm," I flipped the television on. MTV's showing a Jersey Shore marathon of season 1. "Where's Jton?"

"She has work. We're gonna go hang out with her after she gets off in a bit. Just gonna grab a bite and walk around 3rd Street Promenade." Ashley finally made her way around to the opposite side of the couch. "Wanna come?"

"Oh, that's okay. I'm actually going out with Liz tonight." I didn't mind that Madison had her own plans. My friends know I don't like to celebrate my birthday. Liz is an exception though, for obvious reasons. I smile to myself at the thought of her.

"Oh." Her voice went from hopeful to curious. At least, that's what I gathered. "Some other time then."

I cleared my throat, "Sure." My focus went from the television to my phone. Liz had been texting me sweet, mushy gushy messages all day. I couldn't help but smile all day long like a smitten fool.

"Does she know?" Ashley asked.

My smile tamed down as I looked to her. "That you tried to kiss me?" I raised a brow, noticing how tables turn often. Ashley's always quick to call me out about what happened at the Dubliner. For once, I get to call her out on her antics. "No, I didn't tell her." I shrugged at the thought.

She pursed her lips in a smirk. "I meant… does she know about your secret?"

I still smiled, amused to have called her out nonetheless. "Oh, that." I bit my lips shut, shaking my head. "Nope, not yet."

"Why not?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. It'll happen when it happens." I noticed Ashley nodding knowingly. "What?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Nothing." She shook her head. "It's just... that sucks!"

"It's not like I'm gonna hide it forever." I furrowed my eyebrows in slight frustration. "I don't see _you_ going around telling everyone that _you're_ invincible."

"That's because it's no one's business. _You_ seemed to pry it out of me, though. I don't know why it was so important for you to know."

"So? How's that any different than my secret?"

"You have so many ties to people… people who care. Friends, family, girlfriend. You kinda owe it to them… to tell them that you invade the privacy that is their innermost honest selves… even if you don't intend to." Ashley crossed her arms. "As for me? Who cares if I live or die?" She wasn't being morbid about life. Just bluntly honest.

"I do," I blurted instinctually. It caught me off guard, but it's true. I do care… for some odd, unknown reason.

"Why?" She squinted in curiosity, her voice a decibel above a whisper.

"Because… I just… do. I don't have to explain it. Just accept it." I turned my attention back to the fist-pumping Guidos on TV.

"Fair enough." There was a nice, calming pause in our debate… before Ashley chose to break the silence. "And… I'm sorry about yesterday." I looked at her once more. "About trying to kiss—"

"It's okay." I interrupted.

"I don't know what came over me." She crumpled her eyebrows, shaking her head in confusion.

"It's nothing to be sorry about. I grabbed your hand." I recollected yesterday's events. "It made you weak. You fell into me. It was _my_ fault actually."

"That's not your fault. I offered to help you up."

I don't know what this is. Ashley infuriates me sometimes… with her comments about the things I do and how I live my life. And now we're suddenly trying to profusely apologize for things beyond our control? For being nice and courteous to one another? What _is_ this? It confuses me.

"Let's just… forget about it." I retorted, waving my hand as if to wipe the imaginary slate clean.

She sighed, but conceded. "Sure thing." She reminds me of myself… always trying to find reasons and explanation to things in order to justify or clarify her actions… anything to get someone to understand how and why she does what she does. I never notice her act this way around anyone else besides me. She seems to care what I think of her. At least that's what I gather.

"So, I'm going to Portland this weekend." Ashley mentioned as I felt her stare bore into the side of my head.

"Yeah?" I remained unmoved. "That's cool."

"Do you… wanna come with?"

I quirked an eyebrow, my eyes panning in her direction. "What?"

"Yeah, I figured I could help you on your personality theory paper."

"And we have to go all the way to Portland to work on my paper?" I asked somewhat incredulously.

"I just… need to regroup for a bit and thought we could kill two birds with one stone."

"Hmm," I contemplated. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll manage down here."

My phone vibrated in my hand.

**Hey bday princess ;-) I'm outside whenever u're ready**

I smirked as I jumped up. "I'm gonna get ready. Liz is here." I walked past Ashley to get to my room.

"Sounds good." She didn't necessarily sound as defeated as I'd anticipated.

I threw on an elegant navy tunic with turquoise beads decorating the deep, round collar. My top stood out over the black leggings and strappy heels I wore. I lightly retouched my eyeliner before grabbing a light shawl.

"Have fun on 3rd Street, Mad!" I yelled over as I knocked on her door. "I'm going to dinner with Liz!"

"Okay, have fun!" She yelled back, her voice muffled by the door. "Can't wait to hear all about it! Enjoy your birthday!"

"Will do!" I smiled as I pranced down the hallway and towards the front door, grabbing my belongings on the way out. Ashley's eyes followed me. "Catch ya later, Ash."

She smiled, "Happy Birthday, Spencer!"

"Thank you!" I nodded before shutting the door. When I turned, I bumped right into Liz who immediately gathered me into her arms in this excited bear hug.

"There she is." She growled into my shoulder, before pulling away. _"I am so excited for tonight!" _"I've missed the birthday girl so much!"

I laughed, wrapping my arms around her before she pulled back. "I thought you were in the car. You surprised me!"

"What can I say? (_I hope Anthony has everything together) _I'm full of surprises." She tenderly took my lip in between hers. I savored this sensual kiss, grateful for this moment. We didn't even hear the door open.

Ashley cleared her throat.

"Hey! Ashley!" Liz looked up. "Did you stop by to use the bathroom again?" She chuckled to herself.

Ashley played along with a smile. She's a good sport. "I was actually gonna grab something from my car. Madison and I are.. uh.. heading _out_ soon."

"_Nice! Madison's in."_ Liz nodded. In? For what?

I quirked an eyebrow at Liz before I glared suspiciously at Ashley. She sighed in what seemed like slight disappointment, as if I'd discovered something I shouldn't have.

Liz pulled me along. "Alright. Well, have a good night then!" She waved at Ashley.

"You too!"

Everyone was acting really weird today. Madison bolted for her room the second I got home. The last time she did that, she was sporting some kinky dominatrix outfits and trying to entice Aiden away from the Xbox, when I'd happened to come home early from Spring Break that day. I know Liz has something big planned for tonight. So, her weird behavior is kinda normal. But that whole exchange with Ashley was strange. And Ashley? Well, she's… Ashley. Enough said.

I figured one of either two things would happen: 1. Everyone was on something and the temporary weirdness would eventually wear off or 2. I'd find out soon enough what's going on.

Except soon enough didn't come soon enough! Liz was taking her sweet time and making stops along the way. First, we stopped at the ATM so she could get some cash. Then, we stopped at the gas station so she could put gas in her car. She even decided her car needed a hand wash. She wanted to get an energy drink, but the gas station didn't have the sugar free version. So, we stopped by the grocery store so she could pick some up. In between all of this, she was apologizing for having to run all these errands, whilst she was responding to all these text messages about our "plans." Internally, she was a stressball and I partly felt bad for her. The last thing I'd ever want is for my girlfriend to stress out on my birthday.

"Are you okay?" I timidly asked as Liz cracked open the Rockstar and chugged half the can. Her nerves are familiar to me. She only gets like this when she's about to perform.

"Absolutely! _(Oh my fucking goodness!)_" She grinned as she put the can in the cup holder. She shut the door and started the engine.

"Can I just say," I squeezed her arm reassuringly, "I appreciate everything you've done for me?"

"My pleasure." She smirked this devilish smirk of hers as her nerves calmed down a bit. "I have a favor to ask you."

"Anything."

"Can I put this on you?" She reached in her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Sure." I smirked back as she placed the cloth over my eyes and careful tied it into a knot behind my head. "I gotta say… this is definitely a step up from toothpaste."

"Spencer Carlin," Liz mumbled before kissing me fully on the lips. "Don't you tempt me."

I laughed.

Even though I was blindfolded, I knew we were taking the long way to The Poetry Lounge. Liz carefully guided me over the parking lot's asphalt and eased me into the lounge. I pursed my lips, now realizing what was going on. Unfortunately, when you put me in a room full of people, thoughts hit me harder than a foghorn going off right by my ear.

Liz removed the blindfold as I heard a choir of "Surprise!" I gasped in astonishment, not because I was utterly surprised (yes, I kinda caught on), but because no one's ever gathered together like this just to celebrate _my_ birthday!

They continued applauding as I panned across the room. Among the crowd were several of Liz's friends whom I'd recognized, including Anthony, Sebastian and Kader. There were some regular artists from poetry night whom I'd met when I'd attend some of Liz's performances. Standing by the punch fountain were Glen, Clay and Chelsea. I nearly began tearing up when I saw Clay. He'd flown in all the way from New York! I noticed a beaming Madison jumping up and down in excitement, with Jton at her side. And next to Jton stood Ashley. For a brief moment, I'd felt profoundly appreciative of those two, especially Ashley. It saddened me that Donny, Sarah and Aiden were not part of this moment, but I'd quickly grown to appreciate Jton and Ashley for being there for me, even though we hadn't known each other for very long.

I continued glancing around the room and admired the black and white birthday streamers, balloons and banners in contrast with the calming blue lights illuminating the stage and walls. The tables were set up around the main floor, circling a makeshift dance floor in front of the stage. Champagne bottles popped from behind the bar and the bubbly began oozing over the fine glassware. Simultaneously, a jazz band on stage began playing some upbeat big band swing music.

I looked over to Liz who was grinning at me. I hugged her tightly. "I _love_ it!" I said in her ear. "Thank you!"

"Happy birthday, little sis!" Clay cheered. I immediately transferred my tight hugs to my long distant brother, to Chelsea and then to Glen. I can honestly say I was happy to see Glen. I just hoped he'd be on his best behavior.

"I can't believe you're here!" I looked to Clay and Chelsea before turning to Liz. "Liz, this is Clay, Chelsea and Glen. These are my brothers."

Liz stepped forward, "We spoke on the phone." She stuck her hand out.

"Yeah." Clay smiled, shaking her hand.

"It's nice to meet you!" She genuinely responded. It occurred to me that, with Madison's help, Liz had been orchestrating this whole shindig for quite some time. I was extremely impressed how easily this girl could melt my heart… on numerous occasions.

"Definitely nice to put a face to a voice." He responded before Liz introduced herself to Chelsea and Glen.

"So, _you're_ the reason my little sis has been beaming with happiness lately." Glen was always a flatterer.

"It goes both ways." Liz grinned. They made small chitchat as I glanced to my right and caught myself in an embrace with an ecstatic Madison. She nearly spilled her glass of champagne on me.

"Happy birthday, Spence!" She squealed as I momentarily noticed Jton and Ashley form a short line to greet me.

"Mad, I'm _so_ glad you are here right now!" Out of the fab five, I would say Madison's the closest thing I have to a best friend, considering Donny has been completely M.I.A.

"Me too! Sorry about earlier. I had to bolt for my room when you got home. My thoughts would've spoiled the surprise."

I nodded in realization and backed up to admire her violet cocktail dress. "Cute outfit! Who are you trying to impress tonight?"

"Pshh." She slapped my arm with her clutch. "Girl, please." I looked over my shoulder and caught Glen stealing glances at Madison.

"It's pretty clear what he wants."

"Not in his wildest dreams." I could tell she liked the attention, but she was still dealing with fresh wounds.

"Spence." She called my attention. "Liz did a great job." I watched her eyes glance in my girlfriend's direction. "She's a keeper." My roommate affirmed before taking a sip of the champagne. Although I didn't need it, I appreciated her approval.

I turned to make sure Liz was doing alright with my brothers. They were gathered around the bar, ordering drinks and getting to know my wonderful girlfriend.

"You know," Jton gently guided me to one side of the bar, "it's not a birthday without some birthday shots." She waved the bartender over. I smirked, and partly cringed at the thought of another hangover. I hope she goes easy on me.

The bartender set up a few shot glasses and placed a bottle of chilled vodka in front of us. Jton stood to my right, happily pouring the shots. Her fedora shaded her eyes from the light and I could only see this wide smirk on her lips. From across the bar, Liz and my brothers cheered us on.

"Happy birthday," Ashley mumbled from my left. I smiled at her for a moment before our view was blocked by Madison's arm.

"And what a happy birthday it is indeed!" She reached over and traded her empty glass for a shot. Jton served Ashley and me our shots and the four of us cheered with our glasses in the air.

"Happy birthday, Spencer!" Jton hollered as Madison cheered. We simultaneously threw our heads back and took in the smooth, cool liquor. I quickly bit down on a lemon wedge dowsed in some sugar to chase the shot.

"You alright?" Ashley gently rubbed the clothed part of my back. I knew the alcohol didn't affect her, and it was somewhat comforting that she would be concerned about my well-being.

I nodded before excusing myself to greet the rest of the guests. Safe to say that by the late evening, I had a good buzz going. Everyone wanted to have a drink or two with me at some point. Liz managed to stay by my side nearly the entire night. I loved introducing her to the people who mattered most to me, and I could tell it meant a lot to her to introduce me to hers. I was completely complacent with draping my arms around her and looking at her lovingly as she spoke. Between the band's swing and jazz numbers that got the crowd dancing gracefully on their feet, the open mic artists entertained us with their uplifting performances. Later in the evening, some friends from work joined the little soiree, Corinne included.

I spent a good chunk of the time sitting and chatting with Clay and Chelsea, hearing about their lives in New York, how Clay enjoyed working for the state and how Chelsea showcased her art is some of the most famous galleries, both locally and internationally. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I couldn't help but tell them, several times, that I'd appreciated them coming all this way just for my birthday. And each time, they would laugh at my broken record syndrome.

Liz left for a second to grab me another drink, when she got caught in conversation with Jton. Apparently, they'd known each other from a few classes they took together, and Ashley managed to acquaint herself with Liz as well. I nonchalantly watched Ashley drink with Madison, yet she knew when to cut my roommate off. She practically babysat Madison for the remainder of the evening. However, I knew I could trust Ashley this time around.

I got up and headed to the appetizer table, where Glen shimmied his way over. I already knew what he was going to ask me.

"So…"

"So?" I responded indifferently.

"Word has it that Madison's single."

"Look." I placed a few quiche bites on my plate before putting the tongs down. "As much as I love you like a brother, you're an idiot."

He scoffed.

"Madison being single does necessarily put you in the running. So, don't waste your time." I turned to leave. I knew he was quite tipsy and being… a guy. Or, I'd say, a douche.

"Whatever." He groaned before sipping his beer, brashly gawking at my gorgeous roommate taking the floor with Jton. I smiled, noticing how much fun Madison was having without the influence of testosterone. She was really enjoying herself.

I made my way towards Liz, who was sitting and chatting with Kader, Sebastian and Anthony. On my way over, I passed Ashley leaning against the bar, enjoying her cocktail. She didn't say words, but her glances were alluring. My feet betrayed me, as I turned sharply and parked right next to her.

She smiled, glancing sideways. "Are you having fun?"

"I am, thank you! How about you?" I took a bite of the quiche.

"Great!" Ashley glanced across the crowds "Liz really outdid herself. Looks like everyone's having a great time."

"Yeah, I totally didn't know."

"Oh really?" She asked, her tone laced in doubtfulness. "So, you didn't see this coming at all?"

I rolled my eyes, "Well, I knew she had something planned here tonight, but I didn't know she was going to invite everyone and their moms."

"Guess there's no surprising you."

"Besides you?" I shrugged, "No, I guess not."

She smiled with her eyes and I wondered what she was thinking. "Speaking of surprises, I do have something for you." She put her drink on the bar and reached into her purse. I took this as an opportunity to shamelessly, but quickly check her out. Her slender legs stood out from these cute open-toe black heels, perfectly framed under this black strapless dress that hugged her body in all the right places. "Sorry, I didn't have time to wrap it." Ashley pulled out a small box made from bamboo.

My eyes snapped back to her face. She totally caught me checking her out. Fortunately, the alcohol in my system prevented me from actually giving a damn.

I looked at the box with curiosity as she placed it in my hands. "Thank you!"

"Open it," She smiled again. I carefully pulled the top off the box and noticed the colorful patterns of the woven square pendant hanging from black string. It reminded me of the intricate patterns woven into friendship bracelets. "It's a Tibetan good luck charm I've had since I was there." She paused. "My life has been nothing but peaceful since."

Something in her eyes spoke to me on how much it'd meant to her. "Aww, Ash… I can't take this."

"Please." Her voice lulled. "I want you to have it."

I nodded in understanding and clenched the box as Liz strolled nonchalantly in our direction. She draped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head before looking to Ashley. "I can't thank you and Madison enough for all your help decorating tonight."

Ashley glanced at Madison dancing with Jton, "It was our pleasure." She smiled again. "Anything for Spencer." Her eyes were now staring into mine. On the surface, her words were seemingly innocent, but something in her boldness and tone made me think otherwise. I didn't know whether I should be flattered or offended really.

Liz nodded and turned to whisper something in my ear, "I have one more surprise for you."

"What is it?" I feigned curiosity, though I kinda already knew.

She kissed my cheek and approached the stage as the latest dance number came to its end. Liz grabbed the mic, "Good evening everyone! I'm so glad you could all make it tonight to celebrate the birth of the wonderful Spencer Carlin." Everyone cheered. I glanced at Ashley who tilted her glass to me. "She means so much to me, and I dedicate this next performance to her." Liz smirked before she paused. And then she spoke, her eyes on me the entire time.

"Your smile is that of sensation,  
Of sweet sunrays dancing in the sky.  
Your eyes are those of stars glistening by,  
Of mysterious temptations.  
Your face is that of serenity,  
Of some great relief to my troubled mind.  
Your lips are those of the soft flower kind,  
Of a tinge of perfection in the brevity.  
Your hands are those of strong desire,  
Of security around mine.  
Your touch is that of cold winds confined,  
Of the entrapment of burning fires.  
Your soul is that of a beautiful gift from above,  
Of complete clarity in morning dew.  
And so my heart is that which beats and thrives for you;  
It is that, tainted with undying love."

The crowd roared in applause as Liz lightly stepped off the stage. She sauntered towards me and offered her hand. As I took it, the jazz band continued to play and we walked to the dance floor. Others quickly joined around us as Liz pulled me close. We swayed to the sultry voice of the saxophone, accompanied by the bass and light percussion.

"So, what'd you th—"

"I love you." I interrupted. We shared in this soft, but sensual kiss, her smirk still pressed on her lips. "You are _truly_ amazing. No one's ever done this for me before."

"I just wanted to show you how special you are." She husked.

I smiled, "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome." She paused. "I also got us two tickets to the William Fitzsimmons concert next weekend."

"No way!" I grinned even bigger, if that's even possible. She nodded ecstatically. "How'd you get them? The concert's sold out!"

"I have my ways." Liz said so smugly. "Thought it'd also be a great way to celebrate you finishing your paper! I know how much it's been stressing you out."

"Yeah, well," I sighed, "it is what it is."

"Speaking of, how did office hours go with Steinhaus?"

"Really?" I quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "You wanna talk about school… now?"

"Well, I wanted to help you with it this weekend, but I have to go visit my mom. My grandma is really sick and my mom could use my support."

"Aww," I frowned a bit, "I hope your grandma gets better soon."

"She's hospitalized in Lebanon. I really don't know how bad it is."

"Of course you should visit your mom this weekend! Don't worry about my paper. I'll manage."

"So, what did Steinhaus say about it?"

"That I should start over, just as Kwan instructed."

"Well, I was talking to Ashley." Oh, great... I see where this is going now. "She got an A in Steinhaus' class. She said she's willing to help you out."

"Oh really?" It came out as a sarcastic statement.

"The only thing is she has to go to Portland this weekend, but she could really use the company."

"And Jton can't go with her?"

"Jton can't make it."

"Madison?"

"Spence, she could really help you, and it'd be nice for you to travel and take a break." Liz paused. "Plus, she mentioned how dangerous it can get, driving all that way alone."

I scoffed. Ashley in danger? More like Ashley _is_ the danger. What's she scheming?

After the song ended, I excused myself and made a bee-line for the brunette. She gazed at me expectantly, smiling coyly which only egged me on.

"Can you just tell me what's so important about going to Portland this weekend? Why do you need me to go with you so badly?"

"I don't," Ashley shrugged, making faces as if I was acting crazy. "I just threw the offer out there."

I rolled my eyes.

"You know, you could say 'no,'" she chuckled. "'No' is an option."

"Actually," Glen intruded from where he was standing next to us at the bar, "that sounds like a grand idea!" His thoughts, although drunken and slurred, seemed a bit retaliatory. He sloppily hooked an arm around my shoulders, looking at Ashley and then to me. "You could visit mom on the way up there."

"Glen, no." I said curtly, my eyes piercing his.

"Well, dad's going out of town this weekend for a social worker conference, Clay has to go back to New York, and I have a huge road game to attend." He paused. "Someone's gotta stop by and see her."

"No," I responded, in a more defeated tone. Even if I didn't want to, Glen was right. Either he or dad had visited mom each week to make sure she was properly taken care of, such as making sure the nurses were turning her every two hours to prevent bed sores. As much as I despised her, I knew that the nurses could be negligent at times. And at the end of the day, she is still my mother.

"C'mon Spence. Don't be difficult."

"Hey," Ashley interjected somewhat abrasively, "her answer's 'no,' alright?"

Glen opened his mouth to respond with what I knew would be anything but polite, but I'd interrupted. "I-It's okay, Ashley." I let out a long sigh. "Unfortunately, 'no' is not an option in this case."


	13. Chapter 13: History Repeats Itself

**_Ever-so-dearest readers... HELLO! You are SUPER amazing for 1) reading this fic and 2) being EXTREMELY patient with me... for which I am forever grateful! I'm sorry I fell off the face of the Earth for a bit there, BUT I have EAGERLY awaited this day that I deliver you not one... but TWO fully developed chapters! :D [I'm doing my HAPPY dance as I type!] Hopefully 2 long chapters compensate for the length of time it took to post? *bats eyes sincerely* These 2 chapters really warm my heart... and I hope you feel the same way. It was a struggle, getting stuck with so much realism that I forgot that this is a fiction LOL! But thanks to your encouraging words and the downpour we experienced in Southern California yesterday, I was inspired to wrap up Chapter 14 ASAP._**

**_SPECIAL thanks and HUGS to casalang, SouthofNowherefanatic, noodles307, WillowOn3, imaferrari, Sgarc12, Ryoko05, Harley Quinn Davidson, whitey9h, LoLo06, hollymarie4, suspenceme, Lostanddelirious, lonefenix, 2bz2breading, Jaelle90, letsbefrankimawkward, BrownEyez44, Water Queen 21, Factoflife02, degrassi1son, Inkmstr90, MusicSouth91, ellociin, lalalalee, luvmeh8meucan'tchangeme, and last but not least, THE beta (bpitw) for placing the stamp of approval on these chapters ;)_**

**_Ish is about to get TWISTED :) Thanks for reading! Enjoy! 3.26.12_**

* * *

My eyes rested on the calming sight in front of me. The low-hanging, cotton-like clouds broke at the right spots to let the perfect amount of sunlight strike the persistent ocean. I lost myself in watching the waves scratch and claw their way at the bottoms of the cliffs, only to recede in constant beats. With every quiet sigh, I wished this road winding around the side of this mountain would eventually lead back to Los Angeles.

Ashley glanced at me before breaking the deafening silence, her hands steadily at 10 and 2 on the wheel. "I didn't get to say thanks for coming with me."

My head rocked against the headrest to the movement of the car. "Well," I exhaled indifferently, "it's what you wanted, right?"

"You make it sound like I put a gun to your head and forced you to come," she scoffed. "I at least offered to help you with your paper."

"I'm sorry," I sighed, this time in resignation. I turned to the brunette. "I'm sure Portland is wonderful and everything it's made out to be. That's not the problem."

"So, what is it then? Does it have to do with what I said… or what happened in your bathroom?"

"No, not at all!" I felt bad that she was blaming herself at this point. "It's just… I try to avoid going anywhere north of LA county."

"…Because of your mother?"

"Exactly. Being around or near her doesn't sit right with either of us."

Ashley glanced at me once more, "She can't be _that_ bad."

"You don't know my mother. I'm the child she wished she'd never had."

"I've lived a long time to know that no parent ever wishes that."

"Well, thanks for that." I paused. "But my mother has never been… motherly to me."

"Because of your powers?"

I nodded, "I'd exposed my mother's affair to the whole family…"

Ashley slightly cringed. "Yikes!"

"…moments after I came out to them." I paused again. "My mother's super religious and…"

"Ah," she interrupted, "that explains it."

"Did you," I looked to her and she returned my gaze curiously, "ever come out to your family?"

"I didn't really know I was gay until I had lived in Paris for a bit… after leaving Massachusetts." Ashley squinted in thought as I wondered who had sparked her interest in the so-called City of Love. "Now that I think of it, there was one person, aside from Jton, whom I did come out to and considered the closest thing I had to a sister after Kyla, but that was much, much later in the 70's."

"And by 70's, do you mean the 1770's?"

Ashley chuckled and I followed suit. "No, the 1970's."

"Just checking." I smiled. "So, things were strictly platonic with this close friend of yours?" My curiosity beckoned.

"Yes, she was definitely someone whom I'd considered more of a best friend really. I wasn't attracted to her like that. She was completely straight, without a doubt. I met her in college – Ohio State."

Hmm… Interesting.

"We just clicked right away." Ashley glanced at me for a second. "If you remember American history, the Hippie era was in the 1960's. There were a lot of protests against the Vietnam War and the American culture changed drastically. The movement for women's rights, minority rights and gay liberation spurred and continued through the 70's."

"Yes."

"So, I came out to this friend and she was extremely supportive. She was a very outspoken women's rights activist and, with a friend like me, she was naturally a gay rights activist."

"Sounds like a true friend." I wondered where this friend might be today. "So, what happened to her?"

"Her mother happened, that's what." Ashley responded sardonically. "Her mother succeeded at brainwashing her that the gay movement was sinful and that she surely was going to hell for it. She never spoke to me again." The brunette paused. "It's one thing to say you believe in all these ideas about peace and equality, but by her actions, I learned what she really stood for."

"Gosh, I'm sorry to hear that, Ash. It sucks to lose good friends because you are who you are." At that moment, I thought of Donny and the cost of losing him to protect Ashley's well-being.

"It does. But true friends are the ones who stick around because you are who you are." She paused. "I think you can relate."

I nodded. "It's… a repercussion. Comes with the territory of having these powers, I suppose."

"It can be pretty lonely sometimes."

"Yes, unfortunately it can."

"But," she looked over her shoulder to switch lanes, as I briefly heard the tires against the lane dividers, "I'm glad to have met someone like you who understands where I'm coming from." Her eyes were fixed on the road.

"Me too," I replied at a volume slightly louder than a whisper.

"And at least you're not going alone to visit your mother."

I gave her one big nod. "Thank you."

She reached behind the seat. "I brought some Flamin' Hot Cheetos." The wrapper crumpled under her grip as she placed the rather large bag on my lap.

"You sure know the way to a girl's heart," I joked. She looked at me in amazement… and surprise. "…through a girl's stomach." We chuckled as I shamelessly ripped the bag open.

"And I promise that Portland _is_ wonderful and everything it's made out to be."

"I hope so. Otherwise, the 24-hour roundtrip would be for nothing." I chomped on a Cheeto.

"Oh, I wouldn't say it'd be for _nothing_." She said in a way that made me ponder the intent, but I shrugged it off as a jovial comment.

"For whatever it is, we still have plenty of time to kill." I licked the chip spices off the tips of my fingers before grabbing another. "So, tell me about the Dalai Lama."

"How about I tell you later when you have your laptop out? I think it would really help you with your paper."

"Fair enough," I grabbed another Cheeto, "but tell me one thing." She raised her eyebrows, her ears attentive to my question. "You said you _knew_ the Dalai Lama."

"Ah," she caught on to my train of thought, "I've never met the _current_ Dalia Lama, Tenzin Gyatso. I knew the one before him, Thubten Gyatso."

"Oh," my eyes shifted to the road in front of us. "Wow." It still amazed me how well-traveled and… historical (for lack of better terms) she was.

"Tibet is such a beautiful place."

"Much like Tuscany?"

"Yes," she smiled this quaint little smile. "Beauty exists everywhere."

"So, why did you leave Tuscany?"

Her facial expression became somewhat somber, "Personal reasons."

I nodded in understanding. By now, I knew when I was allowed to prod further and when I had reached Ashley's boundaries.

For the next few hours, Ashley was kind enough to let me take the reins on the car radio. But no matter what, I couldn't help but dwell on the looming visit to my mother. I pondered various possibilities on how I could get out of it: stomach flu… making a run for it… zombies.

But it was useless. Before we knew it, we were turning into the parking lot of Cottage Hospital. As the Prius came to a very quiet halt, I literally felt the life drain from me. After what seemed like an eternity, I forced what energy I had to drag myself out of the car. After all, I couldn't leave Ashley to stand outside my door and gawk at me through the window, wondering when I would start to decompose.

Everything from that moment forward seemed like a life sentence spent in uber slow motion. It was all just very uncomfortable… and no, it doesn't get easier each time.

When we got to my mother's room, I knocked on the opened door. I walked in and noticed the bed next to hers was empty and it looked like the sheets were in the middle of being changed. I turned my nose at the stale smell and shuddered for a second at the coldness in the room, soon realizing it was my mother's cold presence that stung me.

She had her head turned away, facing the long sill by the window that held a few of her visitors' flowers. Her hair was somewhat matted to one side, away from the white headband on her head. I noticed a few dark blonde stubs of hair begin to grow from underneath parts of the bandage on the side of her head. She looked pale and I started feeling concerned for her condition. The last I'd heard, she was improving. But it didn't look that way.

By the calming rise and fall of her chest underneath the blanket, I realized she was asleep. I stared at her face for a second as Ashley stood next to me, matching my gaze. She looked down at the chart at the foot of the bed that stated my mother's name, staring for a bit before looking at my mother's face again. I know that the mortality of humans fascinates her so.

For a second, I contemplated calling her name and waking her, just to know she was okay. I wanted to at least see her eyes flutter open, and I partly wanted her to show me she recognized me. I walked around the side of the bed to face her. But from there, I froze in place. I was a coward who was still deathly afraid of how she would react to seeing me.

"May I?" Ashley pointed to the chart, which had mom's history, treatment and prognosis report.

I nodded before looking back at my mother. It's sad that the only times we're not fighting and the only times that she's not hating me are when she's unaware of my presence. I recalled how many times and how many years I'd longed for a normal mother-daughter relationship, how different my life would've been. But I resolved I would never have that… ever.

I heard Ashley flip through the chart as I carefully combed some of mom's hair to the side. When I looked to my right, I noticed her water pitcher was empty. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go fill this for her."

The brunette nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the chart. She sure took interest in learning about my mother's condition. I proceeded to find the nearest nurse's station to fill the pitcher with clean drinking water. I watched the cool water flow into the pitcher, now realizing how my breath had finally returned to me. I felt safe anywhere outside of that room.

I carefully walked back to the room with pitcher in hand, passing orderlies moving empty gurneys around, doctors charting information, nurses making calls and reviewing patient schedules, and visitors eager to see their loved ones. Yet, the hallways were almost as quiet as the school library. So quiet, in fact, that I could overhear Ashley talking to someone in my mother's room. I stopped to eavesdrop.

"Dr. Carlin." She spoke my mother's name in all the grandeur associated with its title, as if she were making a grand introduction.

"…Who are you?" My mother whispered hoarsely.

"Your good friend from Ohio State."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Ashley Davies?" She inquired in astonishment. I was equally shocked, but somewhat happy that she was able to speak coherently now.

"Well, I'll be damned." Ashley chuckled. "I wasn't sure you'd recognize me, Paula." I could hear the scratching of a chair in the room and assumed it was the brunette pulling up next to the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows, curious to find out how they knew one another.

"I'm hallucinating." My mother resolved, but Ashley ignored her response.

"Gosh, I haven't seen you since Mary dragged you out of DC. You were such a promising inspiration back then. It's a shame how you turned out." Ashley clicked her tongue. I couldn't tell if there was contempt or mockery in her tone. Maybe a bit of both?

"Nothing about my life is a shame. I turned my life around." My mother's voice was almost as stern as when she speaks to me. "I'm a well-respected surgeon now!"

"Is that so?" I could hear Ashley rise to her feet. "Well, Dr. Carlin, I wouldn't want to keep you from your busy schedule. I'm sure you have a lot of patients to attend to." Yup, definitely mockery.

"Why did you come?" It was the first time I heard hurt and vulnerability in her voice. It was the first time I witnessed someone demolish that cold, austere barrier my mother upheld.

"You never returned my calls or my letters." She paused. "What happened to you? What happened to my best friend who, on that night, told me that she had my back?"

Best friend?

My mother remained silent.

"You did your mother proud." And now I could hear the hurt in Ashley's voice. "But, I'm so glad that cowardice doesn't run in your family."

I couldn't listen to this anymore. I couldn't stomach the idea of what my mother would do if she knew I was essentially the one who brought back a blast from her past.

I left the pitcher with a charge nurse walking in my direction and asked her to place it in the room before I briskly walked to the elevator. I lingered by Ashley's car, contemplating whether I should just catch a bus back to LA. I felt awkward about this… and somewhat betrayed. I exposed my secrets to her… and apparently so had my mother at some point in her life. I was afraid of the unspoken power she held over the both of us. Was she just using me to get to my mother because of some unsettled issue they had way before I was even born? Again, I questioned Ashley's intentions. This was becoming too much of a habit for me.

It didn't take long until I saw Ashley making her way towards me.

"There you are." It was apparent that some of her enthusiasm had died in that room. My mother has that effect. "What are you doing out here?"

I kept my arms crossed and remained unmoved against her car. I really didn't know how to answer her question. I looked down at my shoes.

"You heard us."

"It was my mother," I blurted matter-of-factly. She stood there silently. "She was the one from Ohio. I should've known."

"Should've known… _what_ exactly?"

I scoffed, "This _can't_ be a coincidence. You knew my last name was Carlin. Were you using me to get to her?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"You tell me! You were pretty adamant about driving me to—"

"Spencer, I swear I had no idea." Ashley interrupted. "I knew your mother before she got married… back when she was Paula Wilson." The brunette stepped closer and I felt my nerves perk with attentiveness, now finding myself within her proximity. My eyes danced around, somewhat intimidated to make eye contact. "I hate to bring this up, but don't forget who witnessed that incident with me and the drunk driver… and who persistently sought me out and followed me, class after class." My eyes finally gazed into hers. "And, yet, here I am… trusting you with _my_ secrets, going to your birthday party, and going out of my way to help you with your paper." I saw from my peripheral as she reached for the handle and gently yanked the door open. The force was enough to push me up onto my feet and within mere inches of her. "I don't know if that's enough for you to consider me something of a friend, but at least let that be enough for you to trust that I'm not here to hurt you." She backed away and walked around to the other side as we got in the car together.

The power of her words settled with me as I noticed her tone sounded almost as hurt as when she was speaking with my mother. She was absolutely right.

"Sometimes," Ashley started the engine and began maneuvering out of the parking spot, "I wish you could read my mind. I think you'd be surprised to know how much I actually care about you."

The silence that persisted for about an hour was an awkward one. The imminent tension would only continue on with the setting sun. After telling Ashley I'd trusted her, it was apparent in my words and actions that I didn't. There was no way I could go back and change what I had already said or done. And I still had a million questions about Ashley's history… and about the mother I never knew. But, this was all pretty heavy stuff! The more I learned about Ashley, the more information I had to deal with… and figure out where to place. And the more burdens I had to bear. The more emotions I had to feel. For these reasons, I wondered whether learning more about the brunette would really be worth anything.

I decided to put my big girl panties on… and mean it this time.

"I'm sorry… for not trusting you." My voice filled the small space, overbearing the faint sound of the radio. She looked at me briefly as I continued. "I'm sorry for being a bitch, really. And I'm sorry for everything my mother did to you."

"Spencer, thank you. It means a lot that you feel that way." Ashley paused. "But you don't need to apologize for what your mother did. That wasn't your fault."

"I just… I can't believe you know her."

"I knew Paula Wilson." She corrected. "But I don't know Dr. Carlin."

"Well, I've only known the latter." I shrugged. "What was she like... before?"

I noticed her now sympathetic look. "She was a lot like you: independent."

"I can't even believe that the best friend you were describing was my mother." I half chuckled, half scoffed. "I mean, I knew she was briefly into politics, but her being a strong, open-minded activist, much less a gay rights activist, seems impossible to even imagine."

"I wish you could have known her."

"Tell me more." I uttered almost desperately. "How did you meet her?"

"Your mother was involved in Ohio State's NOW chapter. NOW is the National Organization for Women. She often passed out flyers on campus and talked to students about NOW's weekly meetings, trying to get them involved in reaching out to Congress about making a stand for women's rights. One day in late Spring of 1969 while flyering, she stopped me and talked to me about the women's liberation movement and Betty Friedan's book, _The Feminine Mystique_." Ashley smiled at the recollection of it all. "You would've loved her, Spence. She was so passionate and credible. I think she was the reason so many people joined the organization because of how inspiring she came off as. She wanted to follow in Betty Friedan's footsteps."

Again, I began to wonder how different my life would've been, had I been raised by this version of my mother.

"So, what changed?"

"August 26th 1970 was the Women's Strike for Equality held nationwide. History changed that day." Ashley paused. "It was also the day your grandmother changed your mother…"

* * *

I remember sitting in the back of a bronze Volkswagen van with five other women from NOW, Paula included. Two were jamming on some acoustics as the rest of us passed around some hashish and talked about discrimination in the workplace. The backseats had been removed and in their place were some plush flower power pillows carrying faint odors of the drug. Colorful translucent beads draped around the tinted windows and the side door of the car. They quietly jingled to the gentle rocking of the van. It was an 8-hour drive from Columbus to Washington, D.C. and several of the NOW members decided to caravan to the _Strike for Equality_ protest at our nation's capitol.

"Just because we're women doesn't mean we should be paid half the standard wage of our penis-bearing counterparts." Joan protested.

"Right on!" Phyllis responded with her marijuana-induced squinty eyes.

"Absolutely! It's a ridiculous catch-22: we can either work twice as hard for half the wage, or lose representation in the workplace altogether and get our asses kicked all the way back into the kitchen." Paula grumbled before lighting up. She slowly inhaled before passing it over to me.

"It's so degrading," I concurred. "What more for working lesbians who are up against sexism _and_ homophobia?"

"I'm so glad NOW is starting to fight for lesbian rights." Paula patted me on the shoulder. "It's just as important."

"Groovy!" Joan grinned. "That's why we shouldn't iron while the strike is hot!" She quoted Betty Friedan. Marge and Alice, the two playing the guitars, nodded along. With the exception of Paula and Phyllis, the rest of us in that van identified as lesbians.

Paula turned to me. "Always remember that you're an equal, Ashley. Don't let anyone make you believe otherwise."

"You're a good friend, Paula."

"I'm always looking out for you, Ash." We both leaned back into the plush pillows, trading hits on the hashish. "Speaking of being on the lookout, I can't help but notice how Joan keeps gawking at you."

"Must be the marijuana." I said naïvely.

"No," Paula giggled, "I think she really likes you."

"Hmm." I wondered what it was about me that she found attractive. Perhaps it was my red bell bottoms or how I always wore those Beatle-esque sunglasses.

"You should go talk to her. She seems like your type." Paula had a knack for knowing my type, right down to a tee.

"Maybe later. I don't want to do it in front of Alice." And as lesbians of NOW, we tended to keep it in the club. Alice was with Marge now, but I still had enough respect not to flirt in front her.

We arrived the next morning at Connecticut Avenue in Washington, D.C. Several thousands of women were already gathered there, ready with picket signs and clever chants. People were passing out free coffee and breakfast to fellow protesters. Alliances of minority groups and lesbian rights groups blended in with the masses, preparing to strike in the name of equality.

"What do we want?" A woman's voice bellowed on a megaphone.

"Equal rights!" The masses shouted.

"When do we want them?" The woman chanted.

We responded, "Now!"

I stepped aside to have a quiet conversation with Joan as Phyllis and Marge unrolled our Ohio State chapter's NOW banner. Alice sipped on some coffee, casually holding Marge's hand and watching on as Paula colored in a rainbow peace sign on the banner.

"So, we should hang out when we get back." Joan mumbled in my ear. "Maybe go on a date?"

"Okay, definitely." I smiled back, admiring how feminine she still looked under that flannel shirt and pair of men's pants. We were all dressed in men's wear, matching the theme of the crowd's majority. Dressing up in masculine clothing was a physical representation of how we identified ourselves as equal to our male counterparts.

I suddenly felt someone hastily push past me. I turned to see who had rudely squeezed her way into the masses and noticed an older lady, daintily clad in her properly pressed sun dress. She had white-laced gloves on and perfectly curled dirty blonde hair that bounced at every quick step she took. The only thing off about her was her disgruntled demeanor.

"Paula!" She shrieked.

"Mom!" Paula stood in bafflement. "What are you doing here?"

"Paula, I specifically told you that you couldn't go to Washington and you deliberately disobeyed me!" She paused. "Grab your things. Let's go!" Her voice was loud in short bursts.

"This is not just some school protest, mom! Look around you. This is monumental! It means a lot to me to be here!"

"That doesn't matter." She held a stiff upper lip. "You're coming with me."

I calmly made my way towards the two. "Mary—"

"It's Mrs. Wilson, Ashley."

"Okay, Mrs. Wilson," I paused, holding my tongue before I said anything I would regret. "This is a peaceful protest in the name of women's rights."

"Need I remind you of the Kent State shootings that happened just last year? _That_ was a peaceful protest that turned deadly." Her eyes grew wide as she made her point. "Now, I'm all _for_ equality, but not when my daughter's life is potentially at stake."

"I would rather die fighting for my rights, than live under oppression and conformity." Paula annunciated.

"Don't be so dramatic." Mary rolled her eyes. "Grab your things. We have a flight home to catch."

"I'm staying here!"

"Mrs. Wilson," I stepped closer as her eyes bore into mine. "I care about Paula. I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"She's not yours to protect, Ashley."

"You're right. She can take care of herself." She was caught off guard by my audacity. Her eyes danced around at our friends' faces. Mary furrowed her eyebrows at Alice and Marge's blatant affection for one another. Soon, her eyes zeroed in at my side. I followed her gaze to my forearm where Joan's hands were delicately gripping me.

She turned to Paula, "These are the type of people you surround yourself with? These… these lesbians?" She gawked at us in contempt.

"Mom—"

"No wonder you are _drowning_ in sin! These girls are sinners, Paula." She pointed to us. "They're not right in the head."

My eyebrows crumpled as our friends gasped.

"_Excuse_ me?" Alice blurted as Marge held her back from lashing out.

Mary disregarded our reactions. "I'm not leaving without you, Paula."

"Great!" Phyllis snidely remarked. "You can march with us then."

"Clearly, she would stick out like a sore thumb. She doesn't stand for true women's rights." Joan sneered. "Paula, it'd be best to get her out of here."

Paula nodded. "I'll see you guys later," she responded in a defeated tone. Mary gave us one last dirty look before following her daughter out of the crowd.

After the protest, I never saw Paula again. I called her, looked for her. Hell, I even sent her letters. But all my efforts went unanswered. She was avoiding all our friends and our organization completely. It wasn't until Phyllis ran into her months later that she found out Mary had brainwashed her back into "religious order."

* * *

I fell in deep thought after Ashley's story.

All my life, I'd longed for my mother to look at me like a mother looks at her daughter. I longed for her to just… love me. I'd grown up believing that there really wasn't an ounce of love in that mind, body or soul of hers. But, to think that she was actually passionate about the well-being of others instead of herself and to fathom the idea that humanity existed in that shell I'd known… it hurt. I felt cheated out of a real childhood.

I could easily point the finger at my grandmother, but my mother has always had a mind of her own. I realized now that she gave up way too easily. She didn't fight hard enough for herself. And in that sense, she never fought hard enough for us. We were done before I was even born.

Needless to say, I didn't feel like talking much after I'd learned this hidden truth about my mother's past. And I'd appreciated that Ashley didn't prod or push me to talk. We effortlessly understood each other's boundaries.

It wasn't long before the sun had set… and dusk had taken over. I grew tired and nodded off a few times, leaning my head against the side window. I eventually fell asleep.

When I woke up, I noticed brightness shining in my eyes from the fluorescent lights above. The car was parked, but the keys were still in the ignition. The clock showed it was a little after 9:30 in the evening. I briefly snuggled up to the warmth underneath the coat Ashley had placed over me, now realizing we were at a gas station.

I could hear Ashley place the hose back at the pump before quickly getting into the driver's side. For a moment, I could feel the stinging cold nip at my face. Ashley, on the other hand, looked completely complacent in a thin, long-sleeved shirt. I dug myself further into the coat before Ashley turned to me, now noticing my chilled demeanor.

"Oh, sorry." She shut the door. "I forget how coldness feels."

"Where are we?" My teeth chattered for a second.

Ashley smiled, "We're in Portland. It's just a short drive to the house."

I sat up as Ashley started the engine. We were on the freeway for a few more minutes, and in those few minutes, I enjoyed seeing the lights of the Portland skyline. The city reminded me of home, but it wasn't as bustling as Los Angeles. It seemed a tad more peaceful. The skyscrapers weren't very tall. But I guess that's what made it a little more homelike than highly condensed urban areas like LA.

Soon, we were exiting towards a place called Goose Hollow. Ashley drove us up a few winding road that led up the hillside. The streets were dimly lit. I could make out faint shadows of foliage and trees lining the roads. Behind them were tiny houselights that would lead anyone to underestimate the size of these estates, myself included. I didn't realize it until we reached the top of a hill and parked on a gravel driveway.

"Welcome to my home." Ashley and I both got out of the car. I quickly buttoned my coat and wrapped my scarf around.

"This isn't a house. This is a mansion!" The lights illuminated bleach white rectangular window frames, off-white stucco walls, and brick-red roof shingles. I noticed how both sides of the house extended back in a V-formation.

Ashley grabbed our bags and let us in through the oak door at the main entrance. We walked into a dark foyer grounded in hardwood flooring. There was a grand staircase ahead that split to either side of the house. To the right was a large dining room with a long table, its oak resembling that of the door. To the left was a sitting room where a fire was blazing in a vast fireplace surrounded by full bookshelves. Aside from a large red rug surrounded by furniture in the sitting room, there was no décor in the would-be pretentious estate.

Ashley placed the bags down by the staircase. "Bunica?" she called out.

"Is someone else here?"

A few seconds later, an old lady emerged from behind a swinging door in the dining room. Her dark gray hair hid beneath a floral scarf. Her wool sweater looked a bit old and moth-eaten, while her long, flowing white skirt showcased elaborate patterns. She turned the light on in the foyer before her eyes met ours. Her eyes were dark and deep-set, but I noticed how she knowingly looked at me.

"Vreau sa cunosti pe cineva." Ashley spoke in a language I was not even remotely familiar with. "Spencer, this is Tullia. She is the housekeeper. She is also my grandmother… my bunica."

I furrowed my eyebrows in slight confusion. "I thought you said you had no family."

"I don't. But for all intents and purposes, I call her my grandmother because she is the one who took me in many years ago." The brunette turned to Tullia. "Ea este prientenul meu. Numele ei este Spencer."

The wrinkles on her face curved as she smiled. "Bun venit," she said as she hugged me. I couldn't read her mind, and if I tried, I'm certain it would be in a language I could not decipher.

"She says 'welcome.'" Ashley smiled.

"Thank you." We let out of our embrace and she held my hands. "It's so nice to meet you."

"Forgive me. I forget to speak English." She said with a heavy accent. "You are our first visitor." Tullia continued to smile at me. Not since first meeting Ashley was I even more intrigued to know what someone was thinking. She looked at me with familiarity… and maybe a hint of admiration. It was certainly warm and inviting.

"Bunica, what happened to the house?" Ashley pointed at the plastic curtain at the top of the staircase to the left.

"There are leaks in the roof in the west wing. The repairmen are still working on it." Wings? The only thing I've ever owned with wings was a maxi pad.

"I'll see what I can do in the morning." Ashley responded. "Are you hungry?" She looked at me.

"Just a little."

"I will fix you something." Tullia smiled. "Please, make yourself at home." Her eyes squinted underneath those rosy cheeks as she continued to smile her way back to the kitchen. Ashley grabbed our bags and led me up the stairs. Our footsteps shuffled and knocked against the wood.

"Please excuse the mess. The house is a bit old and needs some fixing from time to time."

"Oh, yeah." I chuckled. "I was totally going to whine about the dust on the crown molding around your castle. Next thing you'll probably say is that you haven't given the Maserati a wax," I joked.

She stopped to look at me. "Would you like to take her for a ride?" Ashley's eyes lit up.

"You have a Maserati in the garage?"

"No, not in the garage. I keep her in the stable."

"Stable?"

"Yes." She smiled before continuing up the steps leading to the east wing. "Maserati's the name of my Thoroughbred."

The hallway that extended through the east wing appeared to be fairly wide. Scarlet carpet ran down the center, all the way to the window at the opposite end. Again, there was no décor, aside from the crown molding and elaborate patterns etched in the wooden walls just around the light sconces illuminating the hallway.

"You'll be staying in the guest room here." Ashley opened the first door on the left. She turned the light on and placed my bag on the ottoman at the foot of the biggest bed I'd ever seen. Opposite from the doorway was a vast window perfectly spread over a long, cozy window seat. In the corner to the right of the grand window was a small study, and just across the way was a sitting area surrounding a small fireplace.

Ashley proceeded to close the thick scarlet curtain over the window. I took my scarf and coat off as Tullia stepped in carrying a delicious looking sandwich and some juice on a tray. She placed it on the coffee table at the sitting area. Ashley came over to stack some wood in the fireplace.

"Thank you." I said to Tullia as she turned to leave. She could only smile and nod at me, her eyes still glued to me even as she left.

"She likes you." Ashley stood up after successfully starting a fire.

"She's very kind and welcoming." I sat at the edge of the bed. "And surprisingly, I cannot read her mind either."

"Even gifted minds need protection." She stepped closer, her hand running over the soft comforter as she stopped next to me. "Tullia can see people's futures. For whatever reason, she can't say what she sees, but she can help guide people."

"Hmm. I wonder what she sees for me." The way Tullia looks at me is as if she knows something.

Ashley shrugged. "Well, I'll let you settle in and get some rest. I know it's been a long day with your mom and all." She raised her hand and hesitated for a second before gently patting me on the shoulder.

"Ash?"

"Yeah?"

I sighed, now realizing just how long of a day it had been. "Thank you," I mumbled.

Ashley nodded. "I'll just be next door if you need anything." She walked towards the door. "Good night."

"G'night." I whispered back as she shut the door behind her.

I reached for my cell phone and noticed a few texts I had yet to respond to:

**11:43am – Liz: Miss you already! Have a safe trip :)**

**2:17pm – Glen: Did you visit mom?**

**3:14pm – Liz: Thinking of you. How's the drive?**

**4:36pm – Glen: ?**

**8:47pm – Madison: going to here bar tonight with jton. wish u 2 could be there! miss u both! **

**9:04pm – Liz: Did you two get there okay? How are you?**

I sighed again… this time a much deeper sigh. How could I even begin to explain how I am at the moment? I didn't have the energy.

Sometimes, I wish people in my life could just understand without me having to explain.

Oddly enough, I felt comfort knowing that Ashley and I shared a connection through my mother. We shared in that sorrow that I'd thought no one else could even begin to understand. But she did.

And for once, I didn't feel alone.


	14. Chapter 14: Refuge

I woke up to what felt like 6 in the morning. But, when I looked at my phone, it was closer to 8am. I sat up, noticing how the daylight on the scarlet curtain gave the room a crimson tint. I stretched my arms, allowing air to fill my lungs in a morning yawn. Exhaling contently, I felt rested.

I stepped out of bed when I heard something outside. I drew the curtain and noticed Ashley in sweats and a midriff, carefully walking across the roof of the opposing wing. With a tool belt around her hips, she looked like Tim "The Tool-Man" Taylor… but way cuter obviously. She bent down to patch some holes and replace a few shingles.

Suddenly, my phone rang and vibrated in my hand.

**Liz Calling…**

I hit the talk button. "Hello?"

"_Hey honey! I've been trying to call you. Are you okay?"_ She sounded so concerned, I could practically hear her eyebrows furrow through the phone.

"Yeah," I exhaled, "I'm fine. We got here okay and I was just tired last night. It was a long drive."

"_Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You usually respond to my texts pretty quickly."_

"Yeah, sorry baby. It was just a long day and I had no energy." I sat on the window seat.

"_It's okay, sweetie."_ She paused. _"Did you end up visiting your mom?"_

"Yes." I responded so shortly.

"_How'd it go?"_ I was really hoping she wouldn't ask me that question. I didn't want to rehash how I felt, nor could I talk to her about how Ashley and my mom used to be BFFs. So, it meant I had to lie to her…

"I-It went alright." I continued to keep my answers short. "She's doing fine."

"_That's good."_ I felt a bit relieved that my superficial answer was sufficient. _"And how are you enjoying Portland so far? Is Ashley taking good care of you?"_

"We haven't really had a chance to explore. We got in yesterday evening and there wasn't much to see, but her place is very…" Freakin' HUGE! "…quaint and peaceful."

"_Excellent. It should be a nice place for you to focus on your paper cuz God knows I wouldn't let you get anything done if I was there," _Liz chuckled.

"Yeah," I smirked.

"_Well, I'll let you go and do your thing. I'm actually heading out to my mom's. I'll text you when I get there."_

"Okay. Be safe."

"_Talk to you later. Love you."_

"Love you, too." I placed the phone down. When I looked out the window, Ashley was nowhere to be found.

I looked down and noticed a nice little patio outside by an outdoor fireplace. The brilliance of the potted flowers on the end tables caught my eye. It was a pleasant contrast to the hazy fog lingering around the dark forest of trees that extended behind the house and into the hills. In fact, the entire courtyard between the two wings was perfectly graced with colorful arrangements of flowers.

There was a quiet knock at the door. I immediately stood and lightly glided across the room, brushing my hair down with my fingers and rubbing the crust out of my eyes before opening the door so nonchalantly.

"Morning." Ashley stood there with a tray full of breakfast goods. And I was totally flustered because A) she was armed with that sly smile of hers and it was dangerously pointed at me and 2) peeking behind that bagel with cream cheese, past that bowl of fresh fruit, and beyond that cup of coffee and tall glass of OJ were these utterly perfect abs that only exist in fairytales. She threw on a zip-up, but that only accentuated the sweat that glistened off her torso in all the right places.

It wasn't long before I realized I had been staring with my bulging eyes that I blinked hard and just nodded. No words would come to mind! I didn't know what was happening to me. There were no brain signals traveling over the synapses in my brain, and my vocal cords found themselves tied together. I cleared my throat.

"Like what you see?" She asked.

"What?" I scoffed, somewhat flustered.

Her eyes gazed down at the tray. "I didn't know what you liked. So, I grabbed a combination of stuff." Ashley carefully squeezed her way in, considering I didn't leave her much room in the doorway. She walked over to the sitting area and I heard her place the tray down.

I finally backed up from where my feet were planted, my hand still on the knob. I turned to look at her and figured the brain signals were finally running through my body via delayed reaction.

"I hope you don't mind. I snuck in while you were asleep so I could throw in more wood to keep the fire going." Ashley sauntered back towards me, "If you want something else to eat, I can fire up the skillet and—"

"N-No!" I blurted. My abruptness surprised even myself. "Bagels and fruit are perfect," I replied in a more humane tone as I was determined to keep my eyes on hers.

"Okay," she grinned again and it only made me cringe to delight in her smile as much as I did. "I'm gonna hit the shower now. Enjoy your breakfast." She patted me on the shoulder. This patting thing was becoming a bit common.

I quietly shut the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to gather myself. What was that all about? Why was I being all weird?

I proceeded to eat my breakfast and respond to Glen and Madison's texts. Madison responded with a play-by-play on her night with Jton at Here Bar. Oh, how funny that would be if Madison and Jton hit it off. I laughed to myself. But seriously… I felt happy for her that she was finally moving on from Aiden, and I knew Jton was partly responsible, even beyond decking Aiden.

I suddenly heard a knock at the door. When I went to open it…

"Spence, I—"

I immediately slammed the door. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Cartesian Dualism at its best. It was a reflex to what I saw on the other side of the door: Ashley in a towel.

I stood frozen.

"Uh… Spence?"

"S-Sorry!" I cracked the door open and stood by it, not really looking at her. "You just… startled me."

"Oh." There was this long, awkward pause while I continued to look away, being the respectful lady that I am. "Well, I just wanted to let you know the shower's free. But, take your time. I'll meet you downstairs when you're ready."

"Preferably clothed." I blinked hard. There go my thoughts again, vomiting out of my mouth without a filter! Argh!

"Yeah," she walked away, laughing to herself. "By the way, you have something on your lip there."

I swatted at my mouth. "What? Cream cheese?"

"Nope," Ashley's voice filled the hallway, "drool." She chuckled.

"I…" really couldn't respond. I shut the door and waited until I was pretty certain she was far and away at the furthest part of this massive estate.

I tiptoed to the end of the hallway and into the spacious bathroom that was practically the size of Madison's master bedroom back home. There were his and hers sinks (or I guess hers and hers sinks), opposite a huge vanity. A sunroof graced the porcelain tub and the shower had dual shower heads. What a wonderful tribute to the art of bathing!

Before I shut the bathroom door, the opened double doors to the room across the hallway caught my eye. It had more windows than wall space really. I walked over and found a library of a room. At the center was a pair of green antique lamps sitting on a large study table. Shelves tightly packed with classics and collections were evenly spaced between the large windows. One book was out of place in this pristine room: The Picture of Dorian Gray.

After I got ready, I packed my laptop and went downstairs to meet Ashley. I walked into the kitchen and saw her packing a knapsack. Tullia was placing a few dishes in the sink when she saw me. Her face lit up as before, her eyes sinking behind those smiling cheeks.

"Good morning!" She walked to me and gave me a big embrace. "It is so good to see you."

"You too, bunica."

"Ahh!" She placed her hands on my shoulders and gave me an approving squeeze. I noticed a brief smirk on Ashley's face before she threw the knapsack over her shoulder. "You learn Romanian. I teach you."

"She's a fast learner." Ashley replied. "Ready to go?" She turned to me.

"Yup!" I wrapped my scarf around my neck and grasped my laptop bag as the brunette led me out into the back courtyard. The air was brisk, but refreshing. We walked past the beautiful garden of flowers I noticed earlier. I admired them as I placed my gloves on.

"So, you slept okay?" Ashley glanced at me as I caught up to her pace. "I forgot to ask earlier."

"Yes, I slept fine. Thanks for asking." I paused. "How about you? Must be nice to be home."

"I actually stayed up and did some reading."

"You're reading Dorian Gray?"

"I see you've found your way to the upstairs study," she chuckled.

I was caught off guard. "Sorry, the door was open and I was just—"

"No! Make yourself at home, by all means." She responded so smugly. "I've read that book so many times. It's my favorite."

"It's definitely a good read." I couldn't help but think that she enjoyed the literature for its parallelism to her own life. Only, I was pretty sure that there was no ugly portrait of Ashley's sins for her to stab and break this so-called curse of hers.

"How are you feeling… with everything that happened yesterday?"

I pursed my lips to the side and let my eyes linger towards the ground.

"It's okay if you don't wanna talk—"

"Cheated." I mumbled. "Not by you though."

She nodded, "I get it."

The silence wasn't awkward, since the sound of our feet on the gravel filled the still air. We continued our walk over the great lawn and its dewy blades of grass until we reached the small stable at the very end.

Ashley unlocked the gate and placed a saddle blanket on this beautiful chestnut Thoroughbred. She untied the horse and slowly walked her out by the reins.

"Spence, meet Maserati."

"She's beautiful!" I reached out to pet her on the nose as she nickered. I continued to rub her jaw bone and long neck as Ashley slowly placed the saddle on her and fastened the cinch. The brunette then placed her foot in the stirrup and mounted the horse before slinking the knapsack over her front side.

"Give me the laptop."

I hesitantly handed the bag to her. "I've never ridden before."

She wore my bag as a sash around her other shoulder. "Great! Now's your chance. C'mon." Ashley extended her hand. "Just place your foot in the stirrup and I'll help you up." I did as she instructed and felt her sturdy grasp on my arm as she lifted me up. She wrapped her arm around to make sure I settled into the saddle okay. "We good back there?" Ashley looked over her shoulder, which my face was practically resting on, what with being pressed up against her like this.

"Yup."

"Okay, hold on tight." I heard the leather reins squeak in her grasp. I hesitated again before gripping her waist. "You gotta do better than that," she chuckled before grabbing both my gloved hands and wrapping them around her stomach. My hands nearly melted off at the feel of Ashley engaging her core.

"Where are we going?" I was partly distracted by the fact that Ashley's hand was still holding mine in place. We began to bounce a bit as Maserati trotted onto the gravel path that led into the forest.

"You'll see." Once Maserati sped up and Ashley was certain I wouldn't let go, she finally grabbed the reins with both hands.

The ride was a smooth one, with the exception of the times I had to really cling onto Ashley while we rode uphill. The dense fog that sat as a shroud among trees made it difficult to see much. Trees would appear out of nowhere, like ghosts in the mist. It wasn't until we were riding further uphill that the fog rescinded a bit. I admired the way the sun would very briefly peek through branches once all the trees made themselves present. Everything was much more vibrant at higher elevation, even though it was still overcast.

The higher we went, the narrower the path became. When it looked like the ground sloped off any which way, Maserati had come to a trotting halt. Ashley held my hand, allowing me to dismount with ease on what seemed like the rim of the world. I stopped to admire the view before us. Freshly blooming trees completely covered the spread before us, now that it was nearing the end of the rainy season. Everything was caked in this lively, but pale green, and it wasn't until I looked up to see a magnificent skyline that I realized how close to the city we were. A few tall buildings peaked over the fog, just as a few blades of grass stood taller than others on this grassy hilltop. The fog was still thick enough to keep Mount Hood out of my sights.

Ashley anchored Maserati before spreading a small, thick blanket over the dewy grass set beneath a large, still tree. I watched as she sat down and leaned on her extended arms, just taking in the scenery before us. She didn't mind our silence, and neither did I.

Soon, I let my feet lead me back to her as I sat on the small square bit of blanket space left. I wrapped my arms around my knees, noticing how the grass was still wet. Ashley leaned against the tree's trunk and I could see the warmth in her sighs. She was comfortingly close.

"This is my spot," she paused. "This is where I come to clear my mind. Anytime I needed absolute silence, I would take Maserati up with me and I would spend entire days up here." Ashley continued to look on as I listed. "It's beautiful in the summer time," she finally turned to me and smiled, "when I would lie beneath this tree and stare at Mount Hood, imagining someone was on that mountain staring right back at me." She laughed to herself, "I used to have full-on conversation with Mount Hood."

I smiled back, enjoying this candid moment that I believed she hadn't shared with anyone else.

"I don't know why," she smirked, looking back towards the hidden mountain. "But, I guess it made me feel less lonely, having some_thing_ to talk to."

"Have you ever been to Mount Hood?"

"Nah, I haven't climbed a mountain since I worked with the Sherpa on Everest."

"_Mount_ Everest?"

"No, Everest College," she laughed in her sarcasm. "Yes, Mount Everest. I went to Nepal after Tibet and we would help expeditionists climb to the summit, providing them canisters of oxygen and helping those with mountain sickness."

"How many times have you climbed Mount Everest?"

"I've been on 52 expeditions. It was really a humbling experience, but I kinda had to stop after a few years. People started to get suspicious, seeing as how the altitude, the cold, or the lack of oxygen didn't really faze me."

I continued gawking at her speechlessly, my mouth agape.

She nudged me to snap me out of my apparent trance. "Anyways, I won't bore you with the details." Ashley's eyes panned down to my laptop bag. "You came to hear about the Dalai Lama, right?"

"Oh," I glanced down and pulled my Macbook out, "yeah."

"After Tuscany, something changed in me. I had no regard for anything or anyone… not even myself." It clicked in my head that something went awry in Tuscany that caused Ashley to leave. "I had no respect for people because I knew I was untouchable. And since I had no real purpose in life anymore, I decided to make one for myself – I became a thief. I made my way through all of Europe, living off the riches I stole from the aristocrats."

"And you never got caught?"

"Had a few close encounters, but never got caught. I'd always escape to another country whenever people would get suspicious." Ashley paused to pick a few blades of grass next to the blanket. "It was nearly an entire century later that I stumbled my way to Tibet. It was much different than any other country I had ever been to. The people were a lot more humble. No one really boasted about their belongings, but at the time, I thought I had known better. I still went through the villages to see what I could loot. But I didn't realize I was going to meet the Dalai Lama, which changed my life forever."

I began to take notes as Ashley continued her story…

* * *

I peeked through the slats of a wooden window, from where I was standing on a stack of crates outside someone's home. The rain was pouring and I knew it would help drown out the sounds of my burglary. I felt a firm tug on my clothes and immediately turned to see a peasant man.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He said in Tibetan.

I wasn't sure what to tell this poor man. So, I made up an excuse. "Looking for food, sir," I responded in the native language.

"If it's food you're looking for, come with me to my home and my wife will feed you." He gestured for me to come down.

My initial instincts were to run away, knowing I was too good for anything a peasant could offer me. But, then I started to feel something – pity. I felt sorry for the true beggar who was in muddy sandals and torn clothes, standing in the pouring rain, trying to convince me not to steal. Perhaps there was something I could offer this man.

I agreed to go with this beggar named Kunga Rinchen. We treaded our way down to the lower parts of the village that sat on the rice terraces. However, the bottom parts close to the river were prone to flooding. Those were the areas only the peasants could afford to live. The houses were just shack-like shelters. The walls were made of rough stones of various shapes and sizes, with straw or wood for roofing.

We entered his small home that did not smell any different than the mud caked on our feet. His wife, named Lobsang Dolma, got up from the cot she was resting on. I was immediately humbled to the woman who was with child, but did not hesitate to greet me and put on a pot of cheap tea for us.

The peasant couple was curious about my background and I shared with them that I was from the west. They took particular interest in the fact that I had spent a few years in Russia and spoke the language fluently. They were amazed of my travels and never really questioned how someone who appeared to be young could have traveled to many countries, when it would seemingly take a lifetime back then. The couple had fed me the remainder of their rice porridge with vegetables; they did not have money to buy meat. Although I did not need it, I could not insult them by not taking the food they graciously gave me. I offered to share it with them and they were grateful that their selflessness had been paid back to them. They would gladly give anything if it meant that I would stop stealing, especially from a humble nation. They had also offered their home as shelter.

By daybreak, I ventured out to buy plenty of beef and mutton from the market. I came back to the peasant couple to thank them for their hospitality. Their eyes lit up and they never questioned how I got my hands on so much of it, as if they knew I didn't steal it. I'll never forget that look in their eyes. I began to realize that there was a higher, more humbling purpose in life. I stopped stealing and started to work for my earnings. Ever since then, they began to call me "deva," which meant "a supernatural being" in the Tibetan language.

I had left Tibet to venture east again and returned a year later after Lobsang gave birth to a boy, Thubten Gyatso. That year, 1877, he was recognized as the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama and he was escorted to Lhasa, where one of the Buddhist temples were. I was proud to have met the parents of the Dalai Lama and thought that that would be the last I'd see of them, but they'd asked me to come back again when he was older so that I could teach their son English. When Thubten turned 6 and was ordained as a novice monk, I returned to Tibet. I tutored him in English and Russian for a few years. It was then that I learned how bright he was at such a young age.

We were studying in the garden one Spring afternoon and he had asked me what I thought about the feuding British and Russian Empires. He was years from assuming political and spiritual authority of Tibet, but was already briefing himself on the politics and threats of surrounding countries.

"The politics of either of these warring empires does not spark particular interest in me, young monk. But, if I were in your position, I would be the aggressor and strike the first empire that nears Tibet's borders in order to show the world that this nation is not one to be reckoned with," I said. He sat there with a stoic look, quietly pondering what I had said. "But of course, that is just my own opinion. I know nothing of the matter."

"You have traveled the world, teacher. Yet, you know nothing of it." He spoke up as I swallowed hard. "There is an emptiness about you that is so clear as day." Thubten read me like a book. "Is it true you are a thief? Is it true that you steal to fill the void in your soul?"

"I did steal… in another life."

"You were not reincarnated."

"I meant… during the time before I had met your parents." I corrected myself.

"Rather, you are reborn day after day," he also corrected himself. "And each day is as empty as the last." Thubten noticed my uneasiness and reverted back to the subject at hand. "To strike your opponent first is rash… for every action in this world has a reaction. The world functions on cause and effect. With two warring empires, there will be a lesser and a greater. Eventually, one empire will be the victor over the other, but this is nothing our nation should concern ourselves with. To strike first and try to lead Tibet as an aggressor will only create imbalance… and destruction."

"And what would you do instead? Allow one of the two to conquer Tibet?"

"Conquering land is futile. Kingdoms come and go, and yet the land is still there. Do these kingdoms take the land with them when they are reincarnated? No." He paused. "What cannot be conquered is what is within. Let the world worry about the world, but within yourself find your own purpose and fulfillment."

"Spoken like a true Dalai Lama." I smiled. "May your reign be a peaceful one."

"It is not too late for you."

"For me… to what?"

"To find purpose that can fill you with insurmountable peace and satisfaction. I can show you."

Thubten was a mere teenager when he had changed the life of an ancient like me. From then on, I continued to teach him English and Russian, and in return, he gave me a new life… one I could be proud of. Half the days were spent studying, and the other half were spent in meditation. He would share Tibetan Buddhist principles and beliefs with me, enlightening me on my sense of self and opening my eyes to how the world does and does not affect me.

Just before he assumed authority in Tibet, it was time for us to part ways. I went back westward to Nepal, now with this new sense of self and purpose. I felt like I was looking at the world through a new set of eyes and I could easily discern the relationship every element in this world had with me. I continued my spiritual journey and meditation during the most humbling experience of working on Mount Everest.

While working with the Sherpa, I caught wind that the Dalai Lama initiated peaceful negotiations with Czarist Russia and survived both British and Chinese invasions within a decade of his reign, only to come out of it as an even more powerful authority. When news caught on that the Manchu force wished to overtake Tibet, the Dalai Lama went into hiding in India. Again, he initiated negotiations with Lu Chan, the Manchu force's General. Though negotiations failed, the Tibetan army overthrew the Manchu Dynasty and the Dalai Lama returned to Tibet. After proclaiming Tibet's independence, he sought to modernize his nation and make the monastic system less oppressive. He was a great leader… surely ahead of his time.

* * *

"So, you're Buddhist?" I asked the brunette.

"I'm a blend of many things." Ashley responded, "I can't really categorize myself. But, I would say I am spiritual, and if it weren't for the Dalai Lama, I would not have known about spirituality."

I finished typing up notes and formulating the structure of my paper. This was good stuff! I could see Maslow's hierarchy in the way the Dalai Lama had lived his life… and how his beliefs had transferred over to the brunette.

By now, the would-be sun was getting ready to set and the overcast clouds were growing a bit darker. Building and street lights began to illuminate the city in preparation of night.

Ashley reached in her bag, silently pulling out a small jar of Nutella and some crackers. "Snack?"

"Sure." I couldn't tear my eyes off the screen as I typed away furiously. "Let me just get this down."

The brunette spread the dark cream over a cracker and turned towards me. "Open."

"Huh?" I muttered, with my eyes still on the screen. I was suddenly caught off guard when she shoved the cracker in my mouth. "Agh!"

Ashley chuckled to herself. "Isn't it yummy?"

"Ha, hanks." I mumbled as I rolled my eyes at her. I munched on the cracker. It was definitely sweet and delicious. I reached for a cracker and dipped it in the Nutella jar. "Your turn." I held it up to her, but when she turned her head, the Nutella got on her cheek and the cracker fell on her sweater.

Ashley had this incredulous look on her face as I just about fell over in laughter. "This isn't a good look for me, Spence."

"I'm so sorry," I giggled, putting my laptop away before I proceeded to swipe at her face with my sleeve. "I didn't mean to do that!"

"I can tell by your laughter that you're really sincere," Ashley snickered in sarcasm. She looked me dead in the eyes as I continued to smirk profusely. The brunette's look turned indifferent as I continued to wipe her down… right until she smacked me on the side of the mouth with a glob of Nutella… and topped it off by sticking a cracker right against it. She nearly rolled down the hill from laughing so hard.

"Oh, it's on now!" Just as I reached for the jar, I felt a droplet hit my forehead… and yet another hit my cheek. Ashley's laughter died down as her eyes turned toward the sky.

"Uh oh," she slowly stood up. "We should get going now."

I noticed her haste as I wiped the precipitation… and the Nutella… from my face. "It's just a droplet or two. Don't get all flustered over it!"

"Rain in Los Angeles is not like rain in Portland, Spence."

She was right… when it rains, it pours! I immediately jumped up and tucked my laptop bag in my jacket to shield it from the rain that quickly began pouring down and slapping the ground around us.

"Hurry! Get on Maserati!" Ashley hollered from where she was gathering our picnic items. I hobbled onto the saddle whilst clenching my jacket closed over my laptop. And believe me, ladies and gentlemen, when I say that that was _not_ an easy task. "Anchors away." The brunette effortlessly jumped on behind me.

I looked over my shoulder. "Shouldn't you be in front, steering this thing?"

Ashley chuckled, "It's not difficult, Spence! No more than... driving a Maserati."

I rolled my eyes, "Har har."

"Well, are you gonna grab the reins or should we just soak in this torrential downpour?"

She had a good point. I grabbed the reins with one hand, protecting my laptop with the other. I felt those strong hands that I didn't even realize were resting on my hips, move around me and take a firm hold of the reins. Ashley signaled Maserati to proceed and we were quickly on our way down the mountain.

"Gently pull the reins so she knows to go left down this small ravine." Ashley directed. I did as she said and Maserati obediently responded. "See? Nothing to it."

Oh yeah. I'm totally feeling like a cowgirl here. I chuckled to myself, amused by my first horse ride. This must be what little kids feel like when they go on their first pony ride.

For the most part, I squinted through wet tendrils and kept my face down, letting water droplets drip down the tip of my nose and lips. After all, I was sitting front and center, facing the blunt of the stormy weather we were riding against. Ashley, on the other hand, kept her eyes forward. She repositioned her hands on the reins to get a better grip, and with the way Maserati was trotting, it only made me lean into her further. The only thing louder than the rain was the sound of our shallow breaths dissipating in the cold air.

We finally reached refuge from the storm when we trotted into the stable. Ashley instructed me to gently pull back on the reins, as Maserati came to a slow halt. The brunette brushed wet locks out of her face before dismounting. I handed her my laptop before I began to dismount. As I swung my leg around, I didn't realize that my jeans got caught in the stirrups. I yelped in midair, only expecting to meet the hard ground. But I was caught by surprise… or rather, caught by Ashley.

"Wow," the brunette chuckled, "I didn't know that all it took was a horse ride to get you to fall for me."

"Oh please." I scoffed, simultaneously shaking my leg loose from the stirrup. "I'm a total klutz. You've witnessed this firsthand."

"Oh yes." Ashley put me down. "From shelves to sink tops. I almost forgot." She smiled slyly as she picked up my laptop bag and slung it over her shoulder. Ashley proceeded to unfasten the cinch and take the saddle off. "By the way, I was just joking about the falling for me bit."

First she's a flirt, now she's a tease. I didn't know what to make of what she was saying. All I knew was the kid in me wanted to get her back for her smart ass ways… and Nutella shenanigans.

I immediately reached for the picnic blanket and made a run for it, giggling like a little schoolgirl while I shielded myself from the rain. As my feet were doused in mud puddles from every step I took across the gravel path, I turned to jog backwards. I noticed a somewhat dazed-turned-amused Ashley quickly lock the gate and run after me.

"Wow," I yelled from across the field, "It doesn't take much for you to chase a lady, now does it?"

"You? A lady?" She bellowed in laughter before she sprinted. I turned and ran just as fast, still giggling as I held the blanket over myself.

We both made it back to the patio door at the same time, out of breath, soaked and laughing at our ridiculousness. I raised the blanket over her as she fished for the keys.

"Thanks! I was afraid I was gonna get wet there." Ashley replied sarcastically between breaths. I laughed. "You're not as fast as you think you are, Spencer Carlin."

"Well, you're not as smooth as you think _you_ are, Ashley Davies." I smirked as she let us in. She had this reserved look in her eyes, like I had exposed something about her. But she continued to smile at me, as she handed over my laptop.

"_That_ was fun."

"Yeah," I chuckled, "I can't even remember the last time I laughed so hard." I could feel my heartbeat finally regulate itself.

"Me neither," she smirked.

"Thanks… for today." I gave her a closed lip smile.

"Yeah, don't mention it." Ashley's eyes diverted down to the floor and around our feet.

I followed her glances to the mud trail we made. "Oh, crap…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll clean it up." She lifted her eyes. "You better go dry off before you get sick."

I marched up the grand steps to my room in the east wing, apologizing with every muddy step I took. Ashley just shook her head at me, chuckling at my silly antics as she walked up the steps after me but went towards the opposing wing.

After I had cleaned up, I felt my tummy rumble. I went downstairs to see what Ashley was up to, but when I peeked in the kitchen, Bunica was cooking by herself. I went back into the foyer and noticed Ashley had cleaned up our muddy tracks. There was a fuzzy hallway light shining from behind the semi-translucent curtains that covered the entrance to the west wing. Like a fly drawn to light, I went to explore out of curiosity.

I walked up the steps towards the plastic curtains, slowly pulling them aside to see what was on the other side… maybe the Wizard of Oz? Who knows? The hallway looked similar to the east wing, aside from the obvious construction work in progress. There were some tools and ladders laying on the side, and random buckets catching droplets of water from the roof. The first door to my right was cracked open and an even brighter light illuminated from inside.

"Ash?" I gently knocked on the door. Upon hearing no response, I allowed myself in and noticed it was a splitting image of my room, with its crimson drapes and plush window seat. Near the fire place and study was a vast bookshelf with an array of alluring items.

I walked in further, looking at the items on the shelves and gently running my fingers over them: first edition books, foreign vases and relics, vintage musical instruments. Artifacts kept intact really. There was even a photograph of Ashley on Mount Everest with a bunch of climbers and Sherpa. She was easy to spot, considering she was the only one without an oxygen mask. My eyes continued to pan the bookshelf until a small conch shell caught my eye. As I lifted it from its place, I heard a metal object fall from the shell and strike the hardwood floor beneath my feet. I bent down and picked up what looked to be a simple wedding band. I suddenly heard Ashley's footsteps slowly creep up behind me as I stood. I was waiting for her to ask what I was doing in her room, but she fell silent.

"You were married."

"Once, yes." I could hear her swallow hard. "Before Tuscany, there was Paris."

"What happened in Paris?"

I could feel her breath against the back of my neck and knew she hesitated. "There, I met Jean-Luc, a French aristocrat. He was sweet, loving and caring. I'd intended to spend the rest of my existence or his life with him… you know, whichever ended first. But there was just one caveat: Jean-Luc wanted children. We tried, and he seemed very supportive at first. But after realizing that I couldn't bear kids, he left me… he had me thrown off his estate and left me with nothing. That's when I learned just how deep the curse could cut me. Not only did I lose my family, but I'd also lost any possibility of making my own."

I crumpled my eyebrows, sympathizing for the burdens she's carried. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's… it's nothing to be sorry about. Things happen for a reason."

"And what happened in Tuscany?"

"Well, while I was with Jean-Luc, I was having an affair with our housekeeper, Véronique. As my relationship with Jean-Luc diminished, my friendship and eventual relationship with Véronique grew stronger. She left for Tuscany with me where we stayed a few years. It was the first time I'd thought that I could put up with what I was. We enjoyed the subtle moments of life, just living in the countryside."

"Was she the reason you left?"

Silence.

And the silence persisted longer than I felt bearable. My heart began beating faster and for a second, it's all I could hear ringing in my ears.

"When I told her what I was, she couldn't bear the thought of aging while her lover remained young and immortal. She left me, kicked me to the curb like I was nothing to her. That was the first and last time I felt I could ever…" Ashley cleared her throat, interrupting herself. "It's moments like those when you realize who is true to you."

Ashley remained within such proximity. At that moment, I felt heartbroken for her. I'm sure her life has had its ups between its downs, but I felt incredibly sad for her. I felt this indescribable urge to turn and hold her close to me… to comfort her and let her know that I (of all people) understood exactly how she felt. How I had been acting towards her because of my own suspicions finally sank in for me. I wanted more than anything to tell her that she didn't have to question my trust because I wouldn't betray her like that… not now or ever.

Before I could do just that, she turned and proceeded to sit down at the adjacent leather chair. I swallowed hard and realized the opportunity had passed. I resolved to placing the ring back where I'd found it.

"I don't know what to say." I divulged my thoughts.

"It's okay. I'm not looking for a response." She quietly rested her hands in her lap as she lost her gaze, perhaps in thinking about her past.

I continued to stare at her before my feet succumbed to some subconscious intent to be closer to her again. Ashley then looked up at me as I extended my hand and gently tugged at her sleeve.

She looked confused, but somehow knew what was on my mind. The brunette slowly rose to her feet with a stoic look behind her eyes. The second our eyes met, there was something else behind them that I couldn't pinpoint… a look perhaps pleading for mercy? I didn't understand it. I just wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly, carefully avoiding skin contact. I guess after realization set in, she returned the gesture. I took guilty pleasure in allowing her to run her hands up and down the small of my back for a little bit. When I cleared my throat and proceeded to let go, she only let loose for a little bit. There was much hesitation in the way she gripped my waist.

"Thank you."

I raised a brow in curiosity. "For what?"

"I have never spoken of that part of my past with anyone before, not even Tullia." She paused. "You have no idea how relieving that was."

"I'm just returning the favor." I smiled before realizing how natural my hands felt resting on her shoulders. I glanced at her face and watched her eyes flutter a bit before she gawked at my lips.

Suddenly, there was a knock.

"Dinner is ready." Tullia yelled from the other side of the door. Ashley let go as I took a short step back, not knowing where to place these moments in which I feel she is telling me something that I may or may not want to know.

"Mulţumesc." Ashley yelled back before turning to me. "Shall we?" She gestured towards the door.

"I-I have to… um…" I paused as I placed a hand on my forehead, trying to gather my composure. "I forgot that I have to call Liz." I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket. "It'll just take a moment. She hasn't heard from me since this morning."

"Okay, take your time." The brunette responded quietly before she politely left the room.

I dialed Liz's number and held the phone to my ear as I watched the door close.

"_Hey sweetie."_

"Hi!" I genuinely smiled, now realizing how much I'd missed my girlfriend. But part of me felt shameful for something I couldn't even define. "How are you?"

"_I'm alright. Mom's taking it rough, though. I'm really worried about my grandmother."_ I could hear her somber tone.

"I'm sorry to hear that, babe." I paused, not sure what to say to make her feel better. "I will hope for the best."

"_Thanks. Your thoughts mean a lot."_ I heard someone speaking in the background. _"Mom says 'hi' by the way. She appreciates your support. We both do."_

"Of course. I'm here for you."

"_So, how are things over there?"_

"Good. We were able to finish my paper this afternoon."

"_That's great news, honey! I'm sure you'll get an A."_

"I hope so. Takes two of us to write as well as you." We both laughed.

"_I miss you. I'll see you tomorrow?"_

"Yeah. We'll leave early tomorrow morning. So, we should be back by the evening."

"_I can't wait."_

"Me neither." I paused. "I'm gonna go eat dinner now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Okay, sweetie. I love you."_

"Love you, too. Goodnight."

"_Goodnight."_

I grabbed one of Ashley's hoodies to wear. The hallway was very dim, cold and eerie. All I could hear was the faint shuffling of my feet against the hardwood before I reached the first floor. As I made my way across the foyer and into the well-lit dining room, I could hear Tullia and Ashley speaking Romanian as they both set the table. Tullia was the first to notice me at the entry way.

"Come. Sit!" Tullia gestured for me to take the seat across from Ashley.

"Poftă bună!" The brunette smiled as she took her seat.

Tullia chuckled, patting her on the back. "Your Romanian is still good."

"Of course!"

"Ashley says 'bon appétit,'" Tullia translated before serving our plates with cornmeal and feta, a veggie medley, and some beef gulas.

"Thank you," I smiled. I'd never had Romanian food, but it smelled delicious. Ashley and I both dug in as Tullia watched intently. It tasted as great as it smelled. "Mmm," I mumbled as I chewed my food.

Tullia's cheeks grew plump as she smiled ecstatically. "You like?"

I swallowed. "This is delicioius. Thank you, bunica!"

She patted me on the back and made her leave.

I turned to Ashley, "How do you like your meal?" I quietly enjoyed another mouthful.

"Hmm," she shoveled some food in her mouth, gently wiping with her napkin as she chewed and swallowed. "To be honest, I can't taste it."

"What?"

"I haven't known the taste of food or drink since… you know." She paused. "I could go without actually."

"So, why do you eat then?"

"Because it's the polite thing to do when you have company." Ashley smiled.

I nodded, "Thank you for that."

"Actually, I'm wrong. Your hodge podge was the first thing I'd tasted since sturgeon and boiled vegetables."

"Well, _there's_ a plus," I pointed my fork back and forth between us, "to whatever this is."

"And what is 'this?'" The brunette raised a brow.

"This effect we have on each other." I thought it was obvious what I was referring to, but I noticed her lingering gaze for me to elaborate. "You know… my inability to read your thoughts and you feeling sick around me?"

"Right." She nodded abruptly, turning her eyes downward to her plate.

"What'd you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing." Ashley shrugged it off.

After our meal, we did the dishes together… mostly because I didn't want to walk upstairs by myself. She led the way fearlessly. Suddenly, Ashley stopped in her tracks halfway up the staircase.

"What is it?" I asked.

"We ran out of firewood this morning." She paused. "I need to go get some." Ashley turned to walk down the steps.

"Don't be ridiculous." I grabbed her arm. "It's late."

Ashley shook her head with a look of concern. "It's gonna get cold, Spence."

"So? I'll pile on the blankets."

"Alright," the brunette turned and made her way back up the steps, "suit yourself."

Ashley grabbed some extra linen from the linen closet in my room and spread it across the vast bed. I proceeded to take off the hoodie I borrowed from her room. When her eyes met mine, I silently held the hoodie to her. She took it in her hands and proceeded to put it back on me.

I laughed as she twirled around me and pulled my other arm through the sleeve.

"You're gonna need it." She smirked as she stood in front of me, slowly zipping the hoodie up. "Besides, I don't mind you wearing my clothes." Her slightly dilated eyes watched keenly until they met mine again. I felt somewhat uncomfortable, feeling a bit exposed in her sights, but I boldly gazed back at her, curious on what she might be thinking at that moment.

Ashley briefly licked her lips, stepping towards me. I quietly gasped as she reached around me, her eyes still piercing mine. My eyes panned to her hand, which grasped the comforter and slowly pulled it back. I didn't bother to look back at her, now realizing my impulsive desires were betraying my heart.

"Goodnight, Spencer." Ashley said softly before turning towards the door and leaving me to drown in my own confusion and internal hysterics. I stood alone in the silence of such a vast room, but couldn't feel anymore claustrophobic in my own thoughts.

I started to really question whether I was being naïve in thinking that her intentions were strictly platonic. I mean, if she really is just a friend, there shouldn't be anything to question, right? Like… I know Madison and I are strictly platonic and the lines are drawn very clearly… as are with everyone I would regard as a friend. If that's the case with Ashley, there should be no doubt in my mind that she's just a friend, and it should be absurd of me to think that she has any remote feelings for me. But, for some reason, that line between platonic and… non-platonic… was getting blurrier and blurrier the more Ashley showed me her layers… layers that I doubt anyone else had seen. I want to, with all my might, deny my attraction to her, but denying it wouldn't change the fact that I am.

She's beautiful… not because she's gorgeous (that's a plus), but because deep down inside, I cannot deny this unspoken bond we have. We just get each other… and it happened so quickly and so effortlessly.

My thoughts sent me spiraling, but the bottom line is… I will never act on this because I am in love with Liz, yes I am. We've got a great thing going and I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that… nor would I hurt her the way Melinda had done to me.

I killed the lights and slid into bed, the cool sheets feeling like ice against my skin. My teeth chattered as I assumed fetal position, waiting for my bodily warmth to take over. I tossed and turned for a bit, and I even tried creating friction, but to no avail. What felt like hours of coldness were actually much less than that.

I got up with one of the sheets wrapped around me and waddled my way into the hallway. The only light in the house was illuminating from the study where I was sure to find a certain brunette… and sure enough, I found her reading the book that was out of place. I cleared my throat because I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. Ashley gazed at me once more with those daunting eyes.

"You're right," is all I mustered up to say with tired eyes. "It's freezing."

She placed the book down without hesitation and made her way towards the doorway. "I'll go get you some firewood."

I grabbed her arm again. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but the delirium of being tired just took over my rationale. "Actually… I know this would be much to ask from you, so please feel free to say 'no,' but—"

"Would you like me to keep you warm?" She took the words right out of my mouth.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"Of course not," Ashley mumbled. "That's what friends are for." Her words threw me for another loop. I get the girl 100%, especially when it comes to her sharing her past and who she is. I get that. But for some reason, I cannot seem to pinpoint what she may think or feel towards me. Just when I'm certain I know how she feels, she plants seeds of platonic doubt in my mind.

I slid back into my ice bed and made myself comfortable before the brunette slipped in after me. I faced my back to her and snuggled up to a pillow as I felt her inch closer until she cradled my body with hers.

"Thanks Ash." I whispered.

"No problem." She whispered back.

Her soothing warmth lulled me into gradual and much needed sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke to find my face buried in her neck and my arm draped around her side. Ashley's arm was also laced around my exposed waist, her hand resting on the small of my back. But by her stillness, it didn't seem she minded one bit. I took comfort in her quiet sighs and steady heartbeats, realizing that the coldness I felt had been replaced with this unexplained burning coming from within.


	15. Chapter 15: Beyond Face Value

_**Top o' the morning to ya (it's about 1am here), dear readers! :) Again and again, I'm sorry if I am lagging... but I managed to trim it down from 6 months to 2 months, right? Hooyah! *clicks heels together* LOL I'm in the home stretch with school and hopefully after that, my updates won't be painstakingly delayed anymore. Anyways, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. In my opinion, it's as awkward as Kristen Stewart at the MTV Movie Awards LOL, but I figured I need to post and move on already. I hope that the next time I post, I will give you 2 wonderful chapters... one of which is already mostly written! Woohoo!**_

_**THANK YOU for favoriting, alerting and/or reviewing this story... though I'm ETERNALLY grateful that you have simply read it! This is truly my passion and I'm more than happy to just give you something to read! Bear HUGS and tons o' love to lovemeh8meucan'tchangeme (i heart crazy lol), Ryoko05, BrownEyez44 (YOU are brilliant! keep writing!), Elly1212, noodles307, Irishgrl33, Water Queen 21 (you got me! i messed up on that one... forgive me?), hollymarie4, LoSTaNdDeLiRiOuS, Harley Quinn Davidson, casalang, sayiloveyou whenyournotlistenin, lalalalee, sparkles04, jyellow, Sgarc12, LoLo06 (I'll try to keep is less than 6, I swear! hehe), MusicSouth91, HIJKay (curious to know what your theory is!), Dominomino, and THE betabear (River)! :D**_

_**Beware! More revelations below... Enjoy! :) 5.31.12**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere and its characters.**_

* * *

I stretched my limbs, groaning into a sigh… and then a rejuvenated yawn. My eyes finally fluttered open to notice the Ashley-shaped dent in the cloud-like mattress. I glanced across the crimson-lit room, but the brunette was nowhere to be found. The door was cracked open, but it was eerily quiet: no flame fluttering about in the fireplace, no birds chirping in what felt like the brunt of winter.

I slowly made my way out of bed. The second my feet touched the hardwood floor, I felt the coldness rip through my bones. I gripped my arms, furiously rubbing them with my hands to create some warmth for myself.

I peered into the hallway, which had a darker ambience than my room. I could hear the light scuffing of my feet against the scarlet carpet, until I heard the mumbling of voices from below.

"Bunica, help me!" Ashley sounded like she was in a state of total panic. "It's… it's happening again!"

"Vă rog să luaţi loc." Tullia's voice calmly responded. I heard the loud scuffing of one of the dining chairs before Tullia began to quell the brunette.

"I-I'm shaking. See my hands? I don't understand—"

"Shh, Shh." Tullia interrupted. "Vă rugăm să vă relaxaţi." I could tell by her tone that Tullia was calm about the situation… whatever it was. But, I could still hear Ashley's loud sighs.

"_Now _that you see me, can you explain it?" Ashley blurted. "Why is my chest aching and pounding?"

"Pentru ai—"

"Bunica," Ashley interrupted, "My head is spinning! In English, please?" I could hear Ashley continue to sigh audibly.

"Your heart."

"What about it?"

"It is beating." Tullia slowly annunciated. "It is beating again."

Beating… again? When was it _not_ beating? I've always felt it beating. Besides… isn't it a _good_ thing that Ashley's heart is beating?

"And your lungs," Tullia spoke again. "They're working. You are not used to it."

The two remained silent as Ashley's huffing became less rushed. I didn't know what to make of all of this. What's going on?

"Something," Ashley broke the silence, "something happened to me."

"Yes."

"I-I can't even remember when—"

"You fell asleep."

"Asleep?" Ashley broke in hysterics again.

"Shh, shh," Tullia beckoned for her to lower her voice. "Please… relax."

"I haven't slept since… since I've been…" Ashley sighed again. "Bunica, what is happening to me?" I noticed the desperation in Ashley's voice.

"The curse is breaking." Tullia responded so frankly. "You're becoming human again."

"What? How?" Ashley didn't seem so enthused. In fact, she sounded the exact opposite of what I'd imagine she would feel if she found out she could finally move on with her life. "What's causing this? I need to know."

"I cannot say." Tullia paused. "That is for you to learn on your own."

"Is it permanent?"

"Again, I cannot say."

"Can't?" Ashley desperation lingered. "Or won't?"

Tullia remained silent.

"I-I need to get ready. Spencer and I need to be back by this evening." Ashley responded solemnly as I heard her rise to her feet. "Bunica, if something is wrong though, I trust you would tell me."

As I heard Ashley's footsteps near the foyer, I quickly turned my back to the opposing wall, listening intently as her footsteps dragged up the staircase. My face was fixed at the top step, but my body was facing the opposite direction, ready to make a quiet run for my door if she was indeed on her way to my room. But then, I heard the shift in her steps and her sounds were becoming more distant. I peeked around the corner to see her making her way towards the west wing, soon to disappear behind the translucent curtain.

Naturally, I followed her because… well, I have no real idea why. I quietly pulled the curtain back and walked into the dim corridor. All doors to these rooms were shut, with the exception of the last - the bathroom. I could hear the sound of the faucet running, water dripping into what sounded like an almost full sink.

As I inched forward to the wide open door, I caught a glimpse of the brunette bent over, with her face submerged in the water. Bubbles surfaced as she exhaled. What the hell is she doing?

I immediately sprung into action and ran in, yanking her up by the shoulders. "Ash, what the hell?"

"Spencer!" She swapped wet tendrils from her face, droplets spraying across her chest.

"Are you _trying_ to kill yourself again?" I yelled in anger, and for the first time, I noticed how her cheeks were flushed as if she finished an arduous workout. I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding this strange turn of events.

Ashley just stared back at me, her chest heaving to the breath that quickly escaped her gaping red lips. Everything about her seemed deeper in color. Even her strands looked fuller and darker. I crossed my arms, waiting for an explanation as she wiped a hand across her drenched face. She brought that same hand to her chest, pressing her fingertips down as she took a deep breath.

"You surprised me." Ashley grimace for a second.

I reached out to her. "Ash—"

She side-stepped me and quickly walked towards the door. "We'll leave in half an hour."

I was afraid to leave her out of fear that she would hurt herself, but she didn't really give me a choice. She locked herself in her room until I left. I didn't know what to make of all of this. I knew Ashley to be invincible, but if what Tullia's saying is correct, she's no longer impervious to all the things human beings aren't.

As I got ready, it hit me that we were back at square one with Ashley being so cryptic. I thought that after all we'd been through, we were past that. But I guess I was wrong. Fine! If she wants to be like that and not let me care about her, then I will do just that!

Half an hour later, I dropped my bags in the foyer and looked over to the dining room. Tullia sat across from a side of Ashley I'd never seen – she was gorging everything in sight! There were plates of food set before her: freshly baked muffins, oranges, apples, pears, grapes, bananas, yogurt, cereal… you name it, she ate it! The brunette was engulfed in this moment of utter hunger that she didn't even notice me standing there.

Ashley would spread Nutella on everything… especially on the muffins and the banana slices. She _drank_ the yogurt! She threw cereal in her mouth with her bare hands, groaning in approval and nodding as she chewed vigorously. My mouth gaped open at the chaos.

"Oh my gosh, I forgot how good food tastes!" Ashley mumbled with a mouthful. Tullia's eyes finally panned towards me. She immediately cleared her throat to signal the brunette. Ashley's eyes immediately grew wide. She glanced at me from her peripheral and quickly wiped her Nutella-smeared mouth with a napkin. Ashley stood and excused herself from the table, avoiding eye contact as she grabbed my bags.

"I can carry those myself, you know?" I hollered after her, but she ignored me… much like she ignored the fact that I had witnessed her savage eating habits. The front door shut behind her. I sighed at the thought of what was going to be too long of a ride home, much like the drive to see my mother.

Tullia approached me with a brown paper bag. "Spencer, I have packed you breakfast and snacks." She smiled with those rosy cheeks and welcoming demeanor that seemed to be the only things that hadn't changed over the weekend.

"Bunica, how can I ever repay you for your hospitality?" I hugged her. "Thank you," I replied softly. When we let out of our embrace, she handed me the bag and gripped my shoulders with a comforting squeeze.

"Please… give it some time." Tullia nodded with a quaint smile. Give _what_ some time? "There will be much to figure out."

What does _that_ mean? What's there for me to figure out? I would think I have everything in my life figured out for the most part. I just nodded and smiled back, pretending that I knew what she was talking about. Ashley came back into the foyer and gave Tullia a quiet hug. They gave each other this knowing look before I followed Ashley out to the Prius.

To say that the trip was a _long_ one is a HUGE understatement. Ashley doesn't say anything, her eyes intently glued to the road. But, who am I to care, right? If she wants to be that way, then I won't persuade her otherwise. Three hours in and I knocked out, my head bobbing around to the rhythmic motion of the car. A few times, I had woken up simply because my head banged against the passenger window. At one point, I found my seat reclined. I wondered when I finally found the sense to do that… and throw a rolled sweater under my neck as a pillow… and cover myself with my coat.

_TICK-tick. TICK-tick. TICK-tick._

It was in the early evening when I came to. I realized that we had stopped, with the car rocking to each vehicle whisking by. We were stopped on the side of the highway with the hazards on. I sat up, and by the road signs, I determined we were in Ventura County.

I could see Ashley's silhouette against the gravel, the bright yellow light flashing in her face. She was crouched by the front right tire, fiddling with the jack. As she pumped the lever down, I felt the car rise a bit. I stepped out of the car as Ashley grunted, struggling to twist the lug wrench around each lug. Okay, timeout with the whole not-talking-to-Ashley bit. We needed to get home… preferably within the next few hours.

"Ash, do you need help?"

She didn't answer. So, I took the initiative and reached for the wrench. Ashley let it go immediately and stood up, huffing at her futile efforts. Mine proved to be just as futile.

"They're on pretty tight." Ashley caught her breath, rubbing the redness from her hands. "I don't get it. I'm usually good at changing out a flat." I noticed her staring at her hands now.

"It's okay." I stood up. "We can call roadside assistance. They'll be here in no time." I grabbed my phone and did just that. The operator advised us to stand away from the vehicle while we waited. So, Ashley and I sat on a couple of small boulders on the side of the road.

I then noticed 2 text messages:

**5:42pm – Madison: hey roomie! when will u be back?**

**6:13pm – Liz: Miss you to pieces! See you tonight? **

I let them both know that we had a flat and that we'll be awhile. When I looked up, I saw stars begin to form from behind that reddish purple hue of a sky. The sun was setting quickly and darkness began to creep in. I just sat there, hoping that there were no nasty snakes in the bushes!

"It's cold." Ashley's teeth chattered. "Are you cold, too?" Those brown eyes had an innocent glimmer to them.

"Yeah," I blurted, making my way to the car without hesitation. "You should be wearing something with long sleeves." I knew she wasn't used to being cold… just as I slowly realized there were a ton of things she wasn't used to… human-like things. "Here." I swung my thick coat around her, careful not to alarm her with my reach. She seemed kinda jumpy every time I came near her this morning, but now she seemed too tired to care. I wrapped my arms around her, keeping my hands on the coat. Now, it was my turn to keep her warm.

We sat like that for a few minutes until her teeth stopped chattering. I was lost in the sound of her steady breathing, forgetting whatever reason I had to ever be upset with her in the first place.

"I…" she uttered hesitantly. "I wasn't trying to kill myself in the bathroom."

"Okay." I said in something above a whisper. I didn't want to prod. All I had to do was trust. Trust the fact that Ashley did not want to kill herself.

"I was just… shocked. I needed to splash some cold water on my face and I—"

"You don't need to explain yourself. I get it." I still had my arms around her.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Do you?" Her eyes were looking into mine now, inquiring about something. I wasn't sure what she meant by that.

"I know it has something to do with you becoming… human again." I paused. "I overheard you and Tullia this morning."

"Do you know _why_ this is happening to me?" Ashley looked to me for answers, and I could not give them.

I shook my head. "Do you?"

"Not entirely, no." Her shoulders slumped a bit, but I refused to let go to make sure she was nice and warm. "What did you mean," she turned to face me, which forced my grip loose, "when you asked me if I was trying to kill myself… again?"

I had to choose my words carefully. Ashley didn't know about the surveillance tape… and that I had viewed playback of the accident frame by frame. "The night of the car accident," I started. "You stepped off that curb. And even though it was for a split second, you stood there with your arms wide open… as if you were welcoming the onslaught."

"It's because spreading myself out lessened the impact on the driver. I had to take the hit and let myself get pummeled. If I braced myself for it, he would've been in worse condition… or dead."

Now, why didn't _I_ think of that? That made _total_ sense! In that split second, she was thinking about the safety and well-being of a total stranger. "I see," I nodded.

"Spencer," she called and I raised my chin to look at her. "I haven't thought about killing myself since before I met the Dalai Lama. Even more so, I haven't attempted suicide since shortly after my family's death. I'd coped long time ago with what I am."

"But Ash, you're not _that_ anymore." I lulled. "Aren't you happy that you can finally move on with your life… as a human being?"

"I don't know." Ashley crumpled her eyebrows. "It's been a long while since I've been in the position to think it'd ever be a possibility."

"Well, now it is."

"It's not that simple. This changes everything!" Ashley paused. "Or maybe it doesn't." She shrugged. "I don't even know if it's permanent."

"Well, impervious or not," I nudged her, "it doesn't change _who_ you are."

"The charming Ashley that you've found absolutely adorable?" She smirked with such a hopeful tone.

I scoffed. "You're still the same pain in the ass that wouldn't leave the café until I made you your latte."

"It was worth it." Ashley chuckled.

"For something you call 'hodge-podge?'" I pursed my lips skeptically. "Doubtful."

"I lied. It was the best latte I've ever had." A small smile curled at the corners of her mouth. I couldn't help but sigh.

Nearly an hour later, roadside assistance came to our rescue and switched out the flat with a spare. Ashley's eyelids were growing heavy. So, I told her I would drive the rest of the way so she can get some shut eye.

When we finally got back to my apartment, it was late in the evening. I gently woke Ashley before she grabbed my belongings and walked me to my door. When I turned the key and let myself in, I saw the silhouette of the couch in front of the television. Hmm… Madison must've fallen asleep watching _True Blood_ again. Once I flipped the switch, I heard someone in a state of panic.

Suddenly, Jton's head popped up from behind the couch.

"Jton!" Ashley and I exclaimed at the same time.

"What the f—" she looked at us bewilderedly. And it just occurred to me that she had no shirt on.

"What are you doing here?" Ashley inquired as she stepped in behind me.

Then, we unexpectedly saw Madison's head rise from behind the couch.

"Madison?" I bellowed. My roommate looked utterly speechless… rightfully so, since their thoughts pretty much shouted their wild intentions.

"W-we thought you weren't gonna be home." Jton continued to blush profusely.

"It was a flat, genius." Ashley smirked, despite her stunned demeanor. "It's called changing a tire."

"_Oh, dear god… Spencer does_ not_ look happy with me."_ Jton avoided eye contact. _"She probably thinks I do nothing but take advantage of straight girls…" _

My roommate sighed. _"I'm never gonna hear the end of it. Never!"_ Madison patted down her messy locks as Jton struggled to throw her _Ramones_ shirt back on.

Ashley grabbed my belongings in the doorway and brought them in. "Seems like you two had an _interesting_ weekend."

"It might seem that way, but it was really mellow." Jton choked out as she signaled my oblivious roommate to zip up and button her jeans. "How was Portland?" She cleverly changed the subject.

"It was good, right Spence?" Ashley gave me this look as if she was recalling all our moments together, both subtle and not so subtle.

"Yeah," I gazed at her knowingly as I shut the door behind me, "got my paper done."

"Awesome!" Jton tried to play it cool.

"Well, did you get to do anything fun at least?" My roommate spoke up.

I looked at Ashley again as this smirk curled at the corner of her lips. Unbeknownst to me, I was smirking right back at her, recalling our child-like adventures in the rain.

"We went horseback riding." I said so matter-of-factly. "And it turns out that Ashley's also a great mountain climber."

"Well, Spencer's the faster runner." The brunette turned her head towards the two, though her eyes were still peering right at mine.

"Ashley _loves_ Nutella." And I love inside jokes!

"As much as I love _wearing_ it?" She pursed her lips as I chuckled to myself.

"O…kay?" Jton stood up. "So, we should like… celebrate or something!"

"And what are we celebrating?" Ashley's gaze finally turned to Jton.

"You know…" she shrugged as we looked at her, confused at what she was getting at. "Your safe return! And Spencer finishing her paper!" I raised a brow at the flustered girl, knowing she was doing what she could at this point to distract us from the fact that we walked in on them.

"You wanna go out… now?" Ashley was hesitant.

"Why go out when we have liquor here?" Madison finally rose to her feet and walked past us to the kitchen. She grabbed a half-empty bottle of vodka above the fridge.

"Alright!" Jton made her way to the kitchen as well.

"Okay, well I'm gonna go put my bags in my room." I scooped down and grabbed my things.

"Need help?" Ashley inquired before she took off her coat.

"I'm good." I smiled in appreciation as I quickly marched to my room.

The brunette placed her coat on the couch as Jton lined up some shot glasses on the bar top. I walked into the hallway to my room and placed my bags on the floor by my bed. Immediately after, the door shut. I turned to find my roommate against it.

"Okay," Madison lowered her voice, "I know what you must think of me, Spence, and I—"

"Think of you?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?" I started to purse my lips in a smile, entertained by this side of my roommate. I haven't seen her this flustered since she first started dating Aiden and was trying her darnedest to keep it on the down low.

She looked at me incredulously, "You _know_ what I mean, c'mon!"

I chortled. "Mad, the only thing I'm thinking is… why didn't you just take this to your room? That way, Ashley and I wouldn't have interrupted you."

"I-I don't know… why I didn't think of that." Her gaze was lost in thought. "We were just hanging out, watching TV, one thing led to another and…" She crossed her arms, biting her nails. "Hmm." Madison's mind started to recollect the entire evening, even more than I'd cared to know.

"Hey, hey, hey." I gripped her shoulders as she snapped out of it. "It's okay!" I said in slow words as I nodded reassuringly.

"Really?" She raised a brow. "You're not… mad?"

Aww, bless her heart! "Why would I be mad?" I smiled.

"Okay, who the hell are you and what have you done with Spencer?"

I continued to laugh as I took my coat off.

"No, really!" She flailed her arms a bit. "Not too long ago on a night where we went to a lesbian bar, you were berating your very straight roommate for not knowing what she wanted, whether it was or wasn't her ex boyfriend. And now, you're okay with the fact that you walked in on your very straight roommate hooking up with a very lesbian… _lesbian_?"

I was somewhat distracted in hanging the coat in my closet that I pretty much bypassed Madison's melodramatic rant.

"Seriously, Spence! What gives?"

"Hmm?" I finally turned to her. "Nothing! You're a grown woman. Do whatever… or _whom_ever… you want." I nodded with affirmation.

She furrowed her eyebrows suspiciously. "Did something happen in Portland?"

"Nothing in particular, no." I shook my head. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know." Madison shrugged. "Maybe it was the way Ashley couldn't take her eyes off of you. Or maybe it was that weird, flirty smirk on your face when you talked about Ashley's love for Nutella." Again, I pursed my lips in a smile… enjoying the perks of our inside jokes. "Hmm, maybe _Nutella_ is code word for _Spencer_."

"Okay, you're out of your mind," I chuckled, shaking my head at her silly antics. "You've met my amazing girlfriend, Liz, right?" I made my way around Madison, opening the door to return to our so-called party. Ashley was sitting at the bar as Jton poured shots, their backs to us.

"And how was Friday?" The brunette asked. "Any good?"

"The usual hot bartenders. Madison and I had a good time, just having drinks and dancing."

"I assume you walked out this time, instead of getting kicked out?" They laughed with one another.

"Yeah." Jton finished pouring the shots. "Oh! You know who we ran into?"

"Who?"

"That hottie from last time. What's her name? Leilani!" Jton nudged Ashley. "She was asking about you."

"Hmm." That wasn't a mundane 'hmm,' nor was it a very interested one either. It was more like a 'hmm, no kidding' type of 'hmm.'

I raised a brow, wondering what Ashley thought. After all, she did mention she found that fake-flower-in-hair girl attractive… if she likes that sort of type. Really, though? In my opinion, she was kinda whatever… especially considering how she drunkenly threw herself at Ashley.

"Oh yeah!" Madison squealed from behind me as she pranced to the kitchen. "Ash, when are you gonna call her?" As much as I love my roommate, I could wring her neck right now.

"Yeah, Ash! Madison and I can be like your own personal screening service." Jton exclaimed. "We can scope hot chicks out, interrogate 'em, and if they pass, we'll push 'em over to you and be like 'haaave you met our friend, Ashley?'"

"We've concluded that Leilani's totally adorable and she's gotta great personality!" Madison chimed in. "You guys would make a cute couple."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now," I blurted. Oh, _real_ smooth of me!

"Why?" Madison's smile withered as Jton and Ashley glanced at me.

Because Ashley's too good for some crazy, drunken girl throwing herself at her! I mean c'mon! This is _Ashley!_ She was cursed for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. She'd had her heart broken time after time. She fought for women's rights alongside my _mother_. She knows multiple languages. She climbed Everest… multiple times. She taught and learned from the Dalai Lama. Who knows what else she's been through? And despite knowing everything and being able to have anything if she wanted to, she humbles herself. She helps me with my paper, makes me laugh and keeps me warm. And despite me being an asshole to her, she cared enough to let her guard down with me. So yeah… she's too good for Leilani. She's even too good for me!

Well… I mean… as a friend, you know?

"I just think… Ashley can do better." I said smugly.

"She's actually kinda nice." Jton mumbled.

"Yeah, and she majored in Biochemistry at UCSD." Madison disregarded my comment as well. "Give her a call sometime," she playfully pat Ashley's arm.

"Okay, yeah." Ashley shrugged. "Maybe I will."

Just… call me Miss Invisible, now why don't ya?

There was a quiet knock on the door. I made my way to open it, rolling my eyes at the idiocy of this stupid conversation.

"There she is!" Liz sighed, nearly lifting me off the ground as she wrapped her arms around me. Oh how I've missed her hugs! She stepped back, her dark bangs covering her eyes, and she began to kiss me multiple times. I could taste the hint of barley and hops on her lips. She had been drinking. Not enough to render her incapacitated, but I wasn't a big fan of the fact that she drove under the influence… even if it was just a small buzz.

"I've missed you." I hugged her tightly, somewhat concerned about her delicate state but thankful she didn't get pulled over and breathalized. Outwardly, she looked very happy to see me, but inwardly, I knew she had a lot of heavy stuff on her mind. It was going to be one of those nights where she would really need her girlfriend. And I couldn't be any happier to be there for her. Whatever it took to keep her from resorting to alcohol.

"Just in time!" Madison hollered from the kitchen. "Come take a shot with us, Liz?" Ugh!

"What's all this?" Liz's eyes panned across the way, glancing at Madison pouring an extra shot. She inched her way closer, holding my hand tightly like a security blanket. _"Hmm, to drink or not to drink?"_

"You know what?" I turned to Madison, knowing that alcohol would only fuel Liz's melancholic state. "Maybe we can save this for another time."

"What?" She retorted. "No, I just poured—"

"What's the occasion?" Liz's grip loosened a bit and I noticed she was now more enthralled with the alcohol than she was with seeing me for the first time all weekend.

"Spencer and Ashley, of course!" Jton blurted. I immediately quirked a brow. "'Cause, you know, they're back from Portland!"

My eyes gazed at Ashley who was just looking at her empty shot glass. By the looks of a used lemon wedge, I figured she'd already gotten started without us. She poured herself another shot before raising her glass. "And to Liz… for allowing us to be in her good company." Ashley said so evenly.

"Goes both ways!" Liz smirked, raising her glass to Ashley.

"Alright, everyone have a shot?" Madison's eyes gazed around. "Spencer, c'mon! Don't be a buzzkill!" I rolled my eyes, reluctantly grabbing one.

"Cheers!" Jton clinked her glass to Madison's and we all followed suit. Everyone threw back the clear liquor and immediately reached for a sugar-coated lemon wedge for a chaser. I glanced at Ashley who squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced a bit.

"Let's keep 'em coming!" Liz croaked. _"Time to drown out the pain."_ She slightly frowned, before clearing her throat and taking a freshly poured shot. Ashley followed suit, exhaling sharply as she gulped the liquor.

"That's the last of the Ketel One." Madison sipped the last of what's in the bottle before Jton grabbed some fruit punch from the fridge.

Thank _goodness!_ I just wanna spend the rest of the evening with my girlfriend and rela—

"That's okay 'cause," Jton reached up into the cupboards and pulled out an unopened bottle, "we'll up the ante with some Bacardi 151! Woot!"

Everyone cheered.

I immediately grabbed Liz's hand and dragged her towards my room.

"Wha…" Liz chuckled. "Spence."

"Where're you going?" Jton asked.

"Sorry, but we haven't seen each other _all_ weekend."

"Hey, take your time." Jton chuckled.

Madison huffed, "Great. Now they're gonna be in there 'til next _year!_"

The second I shut the door, I felt Liz gently push me up against it, her lips fully pressed over mine. They tasted warm… and tangy from lemon wedges. She groaned as she pulled back, her eyes hooded… mostly because the alcohol was starting to take her over the edge. "I've missed you."

"I've missed _you_." My voice was laced with concern. She was like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode any second now.

Liz exhaled, watching her fingers run up my sides. "What's on your mind, sweetie?" Her eyes gazed lovingly at how our fingers gracefully intertwined. I let go shortly after so I could brush her dark bangs out of the way and get a better look at her. Even in my dark room, I noticed her eyes were red and I figured she had been crying earlier. There was so much uncertainty clouding her mind. So much agony. Blame. Self blame. _"I should've been stronger for her."_

"I just wanna talk… see how you've been?" I almost pleaded.

Liz laughed nervously. "Do we _really_ have to talk about it?" Her eyes diverted away. "C'mon, let's go drink and have a good time." She reached around me for the door knob.

"Babe…"

"I _really_ don't wanna do this right now, Spencer!" Her tone became stern. We stood there in this intense staring contest, her eyes severely penetrating mine. _"I can't bear it anymore."_ Suddenly, Liz's face contorted as warm tears began to stream down her face. "I can't…" she croaked.

I hugged her and she collapsed into me. "Shh, shh." I walked her to my bed, gripping her shoulders, rubbing her back… just smothering my hands all over as if that would ease her pain. But she continued to sob uncontrollably, her face planted in her hands. I remained silent, just consoling her. But her mind was racing…

"_I should've been stronger. I shouldn't have been afraid back then. It's _my_ fault!"_

We remained there, just sitting for about half an hour in my dark room, the blinds only letting strips of moonlight in. I watched the minutes change on my glowing alarm clock, as I heard the mumbling of our drunken friends in the living room. They decided to sing karaoke, and I could hear the beginning notes of _Endless Love_, Madison's favorite karaoke song.

I was pretty clueless as to the root of what Liz was thinking about, but I figured it was family related. It was all emotional dialogue: broken rants, painful barbs, and irrational hysterics.

"My grandmother's dying, Spence." She choked out between sobs. "And it's my fault."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sweetie, you can't be to blame for—"

"I am." Her tear-ridden eyes were now on mine. They twinkled in the moonlight. "You don't understand." She shook her head as she brushed her hair over her head.

"Then let me."

She hesitated for a second, her eyes shut tightly. "About two years ago, I was dating Rachel." I remembered the infamous Rachel from our conversation on our second date. It was the whole best-friends-who-became-more bit where Liz thought she'd spend the rest of her life with her. But of course, Rachel was another Melinda who was just having fun. "I came out to my mother after Rachel and I were getting pretty serious. Of course, she didn't approve. We argued and had basically spent months fighting, even after Rachel and I were over. Before then, my mom and I would take many trips to Lebanon to visit my grandmother, who I'm super close to. But since my mom and I hadn't spoken for so long, neither of us went to visit my grandmother. We were just so consumed in hating each other that we forgot what mattered most to the both of us. We lost contact with my grandmother, and in those months, she found out she had early stage breast cancer. Neither of us were there for her when it happened. But when we did find out, we reconciled our differences and went to see her. Had we not been fighting, we would've seen my grandmother and made sure she went to get that strange lump checked before it became an advanced form of breast cancer."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

Her eyes opened as she exhaled a long drawn breath. "You and me both."

"B-but there are treatments for this." I blurted.

"She'd already had a mastectomy. And after chemo, it appeared they got it all." Liz sniffled. "But a few weeks ago, she went into remission and the cancer had spread. She's been in the hospital."

"You can't blame yourself, though."

She leaned over and wrapped her arms around my waist, her head in my lap. I started running my fingers through her hair. _"Yeah, well, I wish it were that easy."_

"It can be." I whispered without thinking.

"Hmm?" I wanted to smack myself in the head.

"Uh," I paused, my hand became still. "You just… you need to let go of the guilt you have." I think she was intoxicated enough to totally miss what I said anyway.

"Probably." She murmured against my shirt. We lay there for a second, both listening to Ashley sing her drunken rendition of _Creep_ by Radiohead. "Babe?"

"**I'm a creeeeeeeeep."**

"Yeah?"

"**I'm a weirdooooooooooo."**

"Can we rest now?" Liz asked so tiredly.

"**What the hell am I doing heeeeeeeeeeeere?"**

"Of course." I said quietly as I gently laid her down. I removed Liz's denim jacket and her grey Toms.

"**I don't belong heeeeeeeeeeeeere."**

I grabbed some pj's out of my dresser and went to shut the window. Suddenly, I heard someone stumble out onto the patio, which was right around the corner from my window. There was a huge thud and I heard what sounded like someone knocking over one of our patio chairs.

I heard Jton laugh. "Get up, ya weirdo," she slurred.

I then recognized Ashley's laugh. "You mind giving me a hand, asshole?" They both chuckled and I heard loud stomps of what I assumed was a drunken person helping another drunken person off the ground.

"Dude, I've neverrr… seen you so shitfaceddd." Jton huffed. I could hear liquid swishing around in a partially empty bottle. Funny… I don't think anyone's ever witnessed Ashley shitfaced.

"Shut yo mouf and give me some of that." Ashley grumbled.

"I think ya had enough, babycakesss." Jton swigged the liquor and coughed a few times before setting the bottle down so roughly on the ground.

"No fairrr…" I heard the patio chair scuff the ground again. "It's freeeeeezing. Where… where's Madison?"

"Passed out, fool."

"So, like," Ashley exhaled, "wha's the deal with you twooo?"

"I dunno man… we're just… I dunno." Jton paused. "She's hot." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah." Ashley voice trailed off. There was this moment of silence, aside from the crickets chirping and the sound of the bottle dragging against the concrete.

"What aboutchu? Who's got yer attention now?" Jton took another swig. "Don't say Yvette." I could hear the grimace in her tone, but I wasn't sure if it was the thought of Yvette or the liquor. Maybe a bit of both?

"Naw. Course not."

"Leilani! Am I right?"

"Maybe." Ashley responded evenly.

"I like her for you." Jton screwed the cap onto the bottle. "She's… got nice legs. Damn…"

"Hmm." There's that 'hmm' again.

"Really though…"

"There _is_ someone on my mind." By the sounds of her mumbling, I could tell Ashley was resting her chin on her hand. "But… she doesn't even _know_." Ashley paused. "She doesn't even _know_ that… that when she touches me, she brings me to life." I heard her fall back into the chair. "Like… literally."

"Tha's lame."

"Yer tellin' _me_." What the hell's she talking about?

And then, it dawned on me…

…

_I instinctively grabbed Ashley's hand and pulled her into the corridor to my left, following the direction of the restrooms and pay phones. I could hear her breathing hard as I took another sharp turn into the door leading out into the parking garage._

_She took another deep breath. I saw her knees begin to buckle before I reached out and held her up, her weight now leaning on me as I used the wall for leverage. I could feel her hot breath dance across my shoulder._

_"My head's spinning and I feel all light-headed." Her grip grew a bit tighter as she leaned into me in her attempt to stand upright. "Wait, do you feel that?" She mumbled, looking up at me._

_"Feel what?" I looked into her eyes. I could only feel her pulse beating rapidly. _

…

_Her fingers continued to graze the length of my long sleeve and came to a rest as she lightly grasped my forearm. "Perhaps it's just a skin-to-skin contact type of… kryptonite."_

…

_She gasped as she pulled me onto my feet. I felt Ashley lunge forward, losing her footing again. The both of us nearly tumbled over as we found ourselves in this awkward embrace once more. Ashley struggled to lean her hands on the sink that her body was pushing me up against. Her chin dug into my shoulder while I held her waist to keep her from falling. "I'm dizzy," she whispered, her chest heaving against mine._

…

_Ashley's arm was also laced around my exposed waist, her hand resting on the small of my back. But by her stillness, it didn't seem she minded one bit. I took comfort in her quiet sighs and steady heartbeats, realizing that the coldness I felt had been replaced with this unexplained burning coming from within._

…

It's because of me!

But, why me?


	16. Chapter 16: A for Awkward

_**Helloooo to all you wonderful FF readers! :) So, I woke up at 2am. Couldn't sleep. I took it as a sign that I need to finally wrap up these two (that's right... TWO) chapters and post already! I am soooo excited to be posting, especially because Chapter 17 (named after a favorite William Fitzsimmons song of mine) was written before most of this fic was posted, sometime before Chapter 9 (holy smokes! that was like more than 2 years ago)! I have been EAGERLY awaiting the day I get to finally share it with you and FINALLY *high fives computer screen [don't leave me hanging]* we are FINALLY there! :D**_

_**Thank you, THANK YOU, thank you for reading, favoriting, PM-ing and reviewing! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it! Special thanks to browneyez44, lostanddelirious (oh, we're just getting started :P), dominomino (imu2 :D), hollymarie4 (aww, don't cry!), MM, harley quinn davidson, zane (hope all is better with you!), babykennedy (thanks for keeping me on my toes with the pm!), sparkles04 (thanks for the support!), willowon3 (give my best to concealedattraction! hugs to you both!), lalalalee, mjoncearedhead, water queen 21, casalang, chic chica, musicsouth91, firestarter, crazybeautifulme and disguisemanifesto! UBER thanks to the one and only beta, River ;) I guess "Mary Had a Little Lamb" was quite the inspirational song LOLOLOL jk :P**_

_**Alrighty... I'm off to work! Enjoy! :D 7.24.12**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own South of Nowhere or its characters. Lyrics in Chapter 17 belong to William Fitzsimmons' song "Beautiful Girl."**_

* * *

"Unlike Freud, Carl Jung believed spirituality was essential to one's well-being." Steinhaus said as he pushed the frame of his glasses up before gripping the sides of the podium. He didn't quite particularly feel like waddling across the stage this Wednesday morning. "From his research with different religious traditions, whether it was Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism or Gnosticism, he concluded that the sole purpose of one's existence was to discover and fulfill one's deep, innate potential."

I yawned into my sleeve, my other hand gently resting on Liz's leg. She hasn't particularly been herself since she broke down this past weekend and finally told me what had been weighing down on her shoulders. I looked over to her, her dark bangs covering the view of her face. She was leaning on the opposite armrest, jotting down some free verse poetry to get her emotions out.

Lately, she hasn't been the type to talk out her problems. In fact, I don't think she'd been the type to talk out her problems… ever. She was always afraid of vulnerability. Of appearing weak. Of crying. And I guess, ever since the weekend, she'd been a little more on the reserved side. Outwardly, Liz was the same. She smiled at the right moments, laughed at my corny jokes, and kissed me and said her _I love you's _before we'd part. But there really was no fooling me. She was keeping a lot in. She was trying to keep it all to herself.

As the class was coming to an end, everyone began packing their things. I noticed Kwan walking down the lecture hall steps towards the front of the room, carrying a box of paperwork. Steinhaus took notice and bellowed, "Please come forward and collect your papers. Kwan will sort them in piles alphabetically."

I was still packing my belongings when Liz stood to straighten her blouse. "I'll grab our papers," she said as she flung her bag over her shoulder.

Once my stuff was packed and Liz fought the crowd to get our papers, I stood and carefully draped my bag over my shoulder. I watched her climb the steps to where I was standing, her eyes intently looking at her paper.

"Why are you looking at your paper, sweetie?" I asked lightheartedly. "You already know you got an A."

She lifted her eyes to meet my glances. "This is yours." Liz held it up to me.

My eyes went bulging. "What? No way!" I snatched the paper out of her hands, grinning at the big fat _A_ printed on it. I couldn't believe it! The only _A_ I expected to see was in my last name! This is in-freakin'-sane! "No waaaaaaaay!" I turned to the last page and noticed Kwan's comments: _MUCH better job!_

"Congrats, babe!" Liz swung her arms around me. "I told you Ashley would be able to help you!"

"Ashley!" I couldn't help her name from escaping my lips. "I have to show this to Ashley!"

Liz smiled as she intertwined our fingers and began to walk me out of the hall. I'm sure we appeared to be quite the pair – a mature college student and her seemingly unruly, sugar-induced, childlike girlfriend. But I didn't care!

"Where's _your_ paper?" I nudged my composed girlfriend. She held it up unceremoniously, showing me the _A_ that we'd both expected. "Yay! We're twinsies!" I did a weird happy dance. Well… not a full on happy _dance_. It was more like a happy wiggle. "Can I have your paper?"

"Why?" She laughed as we made it outside into the warm morning sunlight.

"So I can frame it and add it to my Liz shrine." I responded with a straight face.

"Because _that's_ not obsessed." She gave me this googly-eyed face. I giggled as she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "Wanna do lunch today?" Liz mumbled into my shoulder.

"Sure!" We let out of our embrace. "Meet me outside of Kerkhoff?"

"I'll be there." She gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

I kept glancing at my paper, taking in the fresh air of what was left of the dissipating morning fog and basking in this lovely California sun. It was like… total victory! Like in _Star Wars _when the Rebel fleet totally annihilated the Death Star, you know? But the second time around… with the cute little Ewoks.

By the time I got into Kerkhoff, the lecture hall was mostly full. No Ashley in sight, but I managed to find myself a seat and save the one next to me for her. I hadn't seen her since we got back from Portland. When I woke up for class on Monday, both Jton and Ashley were gone. And according to Madison, they crashed for a few hours before they left around 4 in the morning.

I want to think that a hangover was what caused her to miss class on Monday, but part of me thinks that she is avoiding me because she figured it out – that I was the kryptonite. So, in that case, I couldn't blame her. But, then again, she stuck around after we got back. She could've left, but she didn't. She knew what she was getting herself into, right? And even if she's becoming human, why is it that I _still_ can't read her mind? Was this what Tullia meant when she said that there'd be much to figure out?

Ugh… I don't know. Regardless, I wanted to show her this awesome _A_ she helped me earn.

"Excuse me," this tall, dark, skinny guy whispered over to me. "Is that seat taken?" We were already twenty minutes into lecture and I figured Ashley wasn't going to show.

I lifted my backpack out of the seat, "No, go ahead."

Weihmeier was going on and on about Daniel Dennett's free will and decision-making model as it contradicts libertarian views. I was hardly paying attention, just jotting a few words here and there… like "and" and "the." Too many thoughts were running through my mind. Serious thoughts. Including _A_'s on papers, emotional girlfriends, not-so-invincible brunettes… and whether the Rebel Alliance could've won against the Empire if they didn't have the Ewoks around. Leilani randomly popped up in my head, too. I wonder if the bitch slept with Ashley by now. Ugh! Did I mention that I don't like her?

Half way into Weihmeier's lecture, I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket:

**10:11am – Corinne: hey spencer! can u do me a huge favor and cover my shift 2day? i know this is last minute, but mark can't. please? i'll totally owe u 1.**

I sighed. Ugh, I really didn't feel like working today… or on any of my days off for that matter. But, Corinne's been really cool lately. She showed up to my surprise birthday party. It wouldn't hurt to help her out I guess. And I could always use the extra money.

As I walked through the front of the café, I nearly went into shock realizing how awkward the rest of my day was going to be. It just occurred to me that Aiden was working this shift. I tried not to make a face, but I couldn't help it. He doesn't particularly enjoy my company.

He looked up from where he was standing behind the counter and he was equally as excited to see me. _"Great."_ Aiden rolled his eyes.

I took a deep breath and proceeded to take my place behind the counter as barista, unrolling my apron and tying it around me.

"_Wherever she goes, disaster is bound to follow."_

"Well, hello to you, too." I scoffed. "Believe me when I say it was _not_ my idea covering Corinne's shift."

"What?" Aiden furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to wash down a used blender. "Mark wasn't available?"

"Nope. So, you're stuck with me today." I singsonged with a dainty grin on my face.

"Fine." He responded curtly. "I'll keep to myself, you do your thing, stay out of my head, and we'll get along _just_ fine." Aiden grinned back, but I know by his thoughts, he was so overtly bitter.

"You know, I'm gonna miss that black eye on you." I retorted sarcastically. "You wore it so well."

"What's your deal, Spence?" He snarled.

"What's _yours_?" I snapped at him, trying my best to whisper my argument as I proceeded to brew a new batch of _Pike Place_ coffee. "I didn't ask for your attitude. If you have a problem with Madison, you take it up with her. But, I didn't do anything to you."

"_You're _related_ to the problem!"_ "You take her side." He grumbled.

"Okay," I turned to him sharply, keeping my volume to a minimum, "let's get a few things straight – I dislike you and Glen _equally_. You are _both_ douchebags. Secondly… of _course_ I'm going to take Madison's side! She's been more of a friend to me, which is more to say than _you!_"

"Well, friends don't let random people _hit_ their friends."

"What do you want me to say, Aid?" I sighed, shaking my head. "I'm not saying you deserved it, but that was a pretty low blow bringing Sasha Miller around like that." I began to clean out the coffee grinder. "If you wanted to hurt Madison, congratulations… mission accomplished."

"She hurt me too!" He blurted louder than was necessary. One of the customers sitting at a nearby table glanced at us curiously.

"She made out with Glen," I shrugged. "…And what exactly was it that you did with Sasha?" Aiden blushed as his thoughts revealed his guilt. "Exaaactly!"

"Alright, alright, alright." Aiden turned the faucet off and turned to face me. "I slept with Sasha. But that doesn't mean I have feelings for her. She happened to be in town." He presented his argument. "It was just… convenient. Convenient rebound sex." He shrugged nonchalantly

I scoffed. "Ugh! Couldn't even keep it in your pants for a week, huh?"

"Oh, shut up!" He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sure she hooked up with Glen the second we broke up."

"No, 'cause Madison has a lot more sense in her pinky finger than you have in your entire douchebag of a brain." I sneered. "_And_ she has better taste than that, might I add."

"So, what are you saying?" I noticed the bitterness in his tone, laced with a hint of disappointment. "That she's moved on?"

"Yes," my voice lowered to match his. "She _is_ moving on… and I think for once, she realized she doesn't need a guy to cling onto for her to be happy." I turned to grab snacks out of the inventory.

Aiden didn't respond, but he had that idiotic, guilty look on his face. He was dumbfounded at the realization that Madison could move on… without him.

I walked around the counter and began restocking cold food items below the bar. Aiden had this defeated look on his face as he forced himself to continue washing down used equipment.

"_I miss her. I just wanted for her to be happy, and if she kept going to Glen, it made me feel like I was inadequate… like I don't have whatever it was that he was giving her. It terrified me that she'd eventually outgrow me—outgrow us—and that she wouldn't need me anymore, when she is all I've ever needed and wanted."_

I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear that or not. I walked around the counter, looking at him with slight pity. "She doesn't know that, you know?"

Aiden was surprised to see me standing next to him. "Know what?"

"What you're thinking. How you _really_ feel."

"So, what?" He slumped. "I can't just… call her after all this and just… tell her."

"Figure it out," I shrugged. "Oh and, by the way, you owe me a new bathroom door."

"Sorry about that. I—wait! It was just the doorknob, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, well… we had to break the door down when I got locked inside."

"Sorry," he answered sheepishly. "I really fucked up this time."

I shook my head. "It wouldn't be you if you didn't fuck up every now and then, now would it?"

Aiden laughed.

"Now, _there's_ the Aid I know." I smirked.

"The guilty one?"

"Naw. The smiling one."

Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket.

**Liz calling…**

"One sec." I turned to walk out the back door. "Hey sweetie," I answered the call.

"_Hey, babe. I'm at Kerkhoff. Where are you?"_

"Oh, shit! I forgot to tell you that I've been called in to cover the afternoon shift at the café for Corinne. I'm so sorry!"

"_Oh… alright. It's okay then."_

"You're mad, aren't you?"

"_I'm not mad."_ Her voice went up in pitch.

"Sweetie, I know when you're mad… and I know when you lie about being mad, too." I smirked.

Liz laughed sheepishly. _"It's nothing."_

"I'll make it up to you. What are you doing for dinner?"

"_I have to study tonight. Gotta lot of homework."_

"Oh, o-okay. Well… maybe if you have a quick study break, I can bring you some coffee."

"_Yeah, maybe." _Liz paused._ "Well, I'm gonna go see if maybe Anthony wants to grab a quick bite."_

"Alright, sweetie. I love you, take care."

"_Love you, too,"_ she mumbled.

**Call ended.**

The rest of my shift with Aiden was relatively silent. We kept it professional. Sure he'd have moments between caramel macchiatos where I'd find him deep in thought… mostly about tits and ass, in true Aiden fashion. Still, there was a bit of mopiness about his demeanor. Something tells me he was pretty regretful for hooking up with Sasha… much less, bringing her around Madison. He's made his bed; now, he's got to sleep in it.

I had texted Liz towards the end of my shift to see if she wanted me to bring coffee or a late night snack (the edible kind, you dirty heads), but she didn't respond. I tried calling, but got her voicemail. I wouldn't be surprised if she was still upset with me for flaking on lunch, but I was determined to make it up to her.

After closing, Aiden wiped down the tables and stacked the chairs over as I washed the blenders and mixers. I made a grande Americano and packed a banana nut muffin to go. Liz loves banana nut.

While Aiden brought the mops out, he got a text message. He briefly checked it and put it away. From his thoughts, I knew it was from Donny. Something about not being able to hang out because of an issue at work.

I opened my mouth to ask him how Donny was, but I stopped myself. Asking about Donny would lead to a discussion about the very reason why Donny no longer worked here. I need to avoid that landmine at all costs.

Aiden looked at me expectantly, but I shoved a chocolate covered espresso bean in my mouth and nonchalantly diverted my glances. High five to me for discretion!

He handed me one of the mops and I began sweeping the front of the café, locking the door on my way. Aiden mopped down the area behind the counter as he whistled to the song softly blaring on the speakers: _In the Mood_ by the Glenn Miller Orchestra. I did my best twist-and-shout moves across the café, eliciting a smile and chuckle from Aiden.

"You need help with anything else, Aid?" I asked as I put the mop back in the closet.

"Nope. Everything looks good." He wiped his hands on a wash cloth.

"Alright. You good to lock up then? I'm gonna head out." I threw my thumb in the direction over my shoulder.

"Yeah." He affirmed.

"Great!" I went to grab my things out of the cubby, along with the goodies I packed for my girlfriend. I couldn't wait to go see her. "Have a good night, Aiden!"

"Oh, Spence?" He called out to me as I rushed out.

I peeked my head through the back door. "Yeah?"

"Happy belated birthday," he smiled genuinely.

"Thanks, Aiden!"

"It wasn't so bad working with you today," he mumbled.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not so appalling," I laughed. "You weren't so bad yourself."

We had this awkward, silent conversation. Despite the harsh news, I could tell he wanted to thank me for what I had said about my roommate. Whether that was encouraging or disconcerting was beyond me. But I think it's safe to say that it was a reality check for him… and he needed it.

Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but he hesitated.

"I'm… gonna head out now before the coffee gets cold." I smiled sincerely. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah." His eyes were very honest. "You too."

As I walked to my car, I tried calling Liz again. Still no answer. I started to get worried. This wasn't like her to ignore me for this long. If this was what arguing felt like, then I'd gladly apologize to end the silent treatment. Hmm… I wonder if make-up sex really is as mind-blowing as they say it is. Now, _there's_ a late night snack I wouldn't mind sharing.

I swung by her apartment, which was a short 10-minute drive away. But there was no answer… and it was clear she wasn't home yet. I decided to go home from there. It was getting really late. Nearly midnight. I called Anthony, but he mentioned he hadn't seen her since they met for lunch. He was nice enough to try to get a hold of her for me, too.

When I got to my place, I put the now lukewarm coffee and muffin on the dining table and began texting Liz to call me.

"Where the hell were _you?_" Madison strutted down the hallway towards me.

"Hey, Mad." I disinterestedly responded, not bothering to look up. "I had to cover Corinne's shift today. What's up with you?" I sent the text and looked up to see my roommate, dressed to impress in her favorite _Rock & Republic_ jeans and her hair nicely straightened with her bangs in a pompadour. She puckered her lips in all her Latina swag, knowing fully well that she was oozing with confidence and this unparalleled hotness that I had never seen before. "What the… Who the hell—"

"I _know_, right?" She grinned.

"Mad, what's the occasion? I know they call it Hump Day, but you don't have to take it so literally, ya know?" I was baffled… and attracted to her… for like 2 seconds though! She's still my roommate… my straight roommate… who had sex with my _brother!_ Eww! Okay, not so attractive anymore.

"Ha-ha." She threw a cardinal zip-up over her white cami. "Jton and I are going cosmic bowling. They're playing 90's music tonight!"

I raised a brow. "So, like… are you two dating now?"

Madison scoffed. "We're just hanging out."

"Which constitutes going to first base… and then some?"

"Oh, shut up!" She slapped my arm as I chuckled. Her eyes panned down to the snacks I brought home. "Are these for me?"

"No way. They're for my girlfriend."

"Which one? Liz or Ashley?"

"Liz, you ass." I retorted indifferently.

There was a quick knock at the door when Madison waltzed her way over to open it.

"Hey!" Jton called out, eyeing my roommate and thinking of all the wrong things she could do with Madison.

"Hey," Madison responded in a slightly raspy tone. My roommate did a once over, checking out the checkered _Vans_ that perfectly framed her skinny jeans and lengthy torso. Jton shook loose her tousled bangs underneath that dark green hipster beanie she was wearing. The leather on her motorcycle jacket squeaked as she fidgeted with her hands. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Madison (very subtly, to the naked eye) bite her lower lip. But because of her turned on thoughts radiating out of her brain and within earshot, I immediately caught the gesture.

Wow! You could cut the sexual tension in here with a butter knife! Or a rather blatant and loud throat clearing. I opted for the latter.

Jton's eyes snapped to me. "Hey, Spence! Didn't see you there." Yeah, okay.

"Hey, Jton!" I rolled my eyes.

"Ready to go?" Madison inched closer. They were grinning at each other like weird idiots. It was so strange, yet so fascinating to watch.

"Yeah—" Jton's voice squealed and cracked as she progressed through her last stage of puberty. She cleared her throat. "Yeah," she repeated in a voice that more accurately identified her age.

"Hey Jton, have you talked to Ashley lately?"

"Uh," Jton squinted in contemplation, "not since Sunday. She's probably bumming it at her apartment…" Which I don't know where that is, but okay. "Or at some nearby bar, maybe hanging out with Leilani?" Great. "I don't know." Well, this was such a useful answer. "But if I talk to her, I'll let her know you're looking for her."

I nonchalantly brushed it off. "Oh, you don't have to tell her that I'm looking—"

"Of course she does!" Madison smirked. She turned to Jton. "Spencer needs to keep tabs on _all_ her girlfriends."

"Please!" I scoffed. "Ashley is _so_ not my type!" Okay… that's not entirely true.

"Yeah, I couldn't have said it better myself, Spence… especially with how you guys were all ogling each other on Sunday." Jton interjected. What is this? A doubles-versus-singles match? They both snickered as I mimicked them.

"Much like what this is between you two?" I pointed between the two, as that effectively killed their childish laughter. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Match point: Spencer.

"Well," Jton glanced at her non-existent watch, "look at the time!"

"Run along now, children," I shooed with a hand, "before cosmic bowling gets turned into regular bowling."

Jton began to usher my roommate out. "And don't worry, Spence. We'll be on our best behavior."

"Oh, I have not doubt." I said so matter-of-factly. "But, just in case, I know my roommate is taking birth control. So, I can rest assured you won't knock her up." I bellowed out in laughter. Seriously, my own jokes are hilarious!

"Shut the fuck up, you crazy ass!" Madison flailed her arms, partly mortified, partly angry, partly cracking up at her roommate's ridiculous sense of humor.

The door shut hard as I shook my head, still recovering from my laughing fit. I glanced at the banana nut muffin and decided to indulge in it… since my girlfriend has gone AWOL at the moment. I placed it in the microwave and decided to Facebook stalk my newsfeed.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

30 seconds later and my muffin was done reheating. I reached up to grab the handle, but froze after hearing a faint sound. Someone was knocking at the door.

Who, in their right mind, would be knocking at this hour?

I hesitantly unlocked the door and cracked it open, only to find such an unexpected visit.

Two things I immediately noticed… 1) my beyond inebriated, completely sloshed girlfriend barely able to stand on two legs, let alone one… and 2) my beyond inebriated, completely sloshed girlfriend's arm draped around my ex best friend's neck as he had one arm tightly around her waist, trying his best to keep her upright.

"Donny," I gasped.

"I'm bluuue… bah doo dee bah doo dah bah doo dee…" Liz mumbled, her head hanging low with her bangs covering her face.

"Hey," he huffed, seemingly out of breath with the effort it took to escort her from his car to my door. "She's been at the Dubliner all night. I wasn't about to let her drive home in this state."

"Thank you!" I gratefully exhaled, opening the door a little wider for him to walk her in.

Liz lethargically lifted her head and squinted at me through loose strands of hair. "Huh, Spppencer… when'dya get heeere, love of my lifffe?"

This was odd… Having Donny here, in my living room. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since he got fired. And here he was. What should I say?

"What was she doing at the Dubliner?"

Donny careful laid her down on the couch as she continued to sputter random lyrics to herself.

"Babe!" Liz shot up. "Wha's the name of that one songgg… the one about funk soul brothersss? And and and… Freddie Prinze Jr. does that weird choreographed dance to it in that one teenybopper movie with Laney Boggsss?"

"Um… Funk Soul Brother? By Fatboy Slim?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"Tha's the one!" She threw her fist up in the air and collapsed back onto our sofa pillows.

"She needs water." Donny said evenly, hands now unsurely placed in his pockets.

"Right," I turned towards the kitchen to grab a bottle from the fridge. Donny reluctantly followed. "You… couldn't cut her off from drinking so much?" I tried not to sound like I was scolding him.

"I cut her off a few hours ago, but she's… a mess." His eyes panned away from my glances. His thoughts told me she had been an emotional wreck, crying and drinking her pains away. "She had her phone out and I noticed you were calling her. So, I figured it'd be best to bring her over."

"Her grandmother's sick." I quietly mumbled, responding to his thoughts. "She hasn't been in the happiest state lately."

"Oh." Donny's eyes were downcast as he nodded in understanding. "Sorry to hear that." He used to be the person I shared everything with. So, it felt somewhat relieving to be able to share something personal with him. Oh, how I wished we could back to the way things used to be. "Well," he sighed, effectively breaking any opportunity I had to find the right words to fix this, "I should get back to work and let you tend to your girlfriend." A small smile crept on his face.

"Hey, how'd you know she's my girlfriend?" I smiled somewhat amiably.

"She called and introduced herself last week... when she invited me to your birthday party." Donny rubbed the back of his neck, knowing the reason he didn't show up was because the drama got the best of our friendship.

"Oh."

"Sorry I missed it, but… happy belated birthday, Spence." His tone showed me he was sincere, but we both knew there were things unsettled between us.

"Thanks," I smiled tightly.

"Speeeeeeencerrrrrrrrr," Liz drunkenly singsonged.

I immediately turned and made my way to her. "Here," I unscrewed the water bottle for her. "Drink some."

She lazily sat up and obediently sipped from the cold bottle.

"I'll see you later, Spence." Lies. People say 'see you later' when, really, they have no intention on holding up to such pleasantries. "Hope you feel better, Liz."

"Mmm." Liz immediately ripped the bottle from her mouth and wiped with the back of her hand. "C'mere, Donny!"

Donny stopped in his tracks. We exchanged uneasy glances before I grabbed the bottle from Liz.

"B-babe, he's gotta get back to work now."

She held up an index finger, "This'll only take… one seconddd." I furrowed my eyebrows, unsure which one of her drunken thoughts would come spilling out of her mouth. "C'mon, Donny." She pat the cushion next to her to get him to sit. He hesitantly made his way around the couch.

"I'm good here," he stood at a distance in front of her, hands still in his pockets.

"Spence," she briefly turned to me, "Donny's a great guy. I mean… he kept my gin and tonic full and dealt with my shit."

"Y-yeah?" My eyes flinched at him for a millisecond.

"Now… don't hate me, okayyy?" Uh-oh, where was this going? "But, I won't be able to go to William Fitzsimmons with you on Saturday." Liz reached out to hold my hand. She hesitated before her eyes glanced to the side. She was preparing to tell me the heart-breaking thought that was lingering in her mind. "My grandmother died today." She mumbled. "I'm leavinggg… on Friday with my mom. We're going to Lebanon."

I threw my arms around her and embraced her tightly. She sniffled a bit, fresh tears slithering their way down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Donny mumbled, his eyebrows knit together.

"Of course I wouldn't hate you for that, sweetie. Your family is way more important than some concert!" I ran my hands up and down her back, trying to comfort her the best I could. But, let's be honest. There was nothing I could do to make the situation better. I can only hold her for as long as she'd let me.

"Ugh," Liz jumped back, now irritated at her inability to keep composure, especially around strangers like Donny. "Enough crying." She furiously wiped at her reddened eyes, trying her best to force a smile. "_You_ are going to that concert, though… and I am giving my ticket to Donny."

"What?" We both gasped simultaneously.

"Besides, it'd be great for Donny to go with you since he wasn't able to make the party last week." Liz knew that Donny and I used to be close, but she doesn't know the details of what happened. She figured we just grew apart from being busy at our separate jobs. "He had to work the night of your birthday, sweetie," she nodded with conviction.

"Yeah," Donny blurted, "and I have to work this Saturday, too."

"Naw uh! You mentioned at the bar that you have Saturday off." Liz grabbed the water bottle from my grasp. "I may be drunk, but I have a good memory," she smiled to herself.

"But—" I interjected.

"No 'buts,' guys! Tha's final! And I will be royally pissed if I find out you two bailed out on a William Fitzsimmons concert!" Liz said in all this grandeur, though she doesn't listen to William Fitzsimmons. Yet, she knew what it meant to me for her to get me those tickets. "'Tis the earnest wish of a girl who just lost her grandmother." She sat back and drank more water.

Donny pinched the bridge of his nose as I conceded to silent sighs. Well, how could we say 'no' to that?

"Uh…"

"Alright," I interrupted Donny's loss for words. "We'll go." I nodded at her, my eyes still on Donny. His thoughts were wrapped up on how awkward it would be between us.

"Yeah," Donny grumbled.

"Excellenttt." Liz exhaled as she fell into my lap headfirst. She wrapped her arms around herself with an amused smile.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go now. Gotta get back to work." He threw his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

"Alright."

"See ya later." He rushed out.

I sighed heavily. How was I going to get out of this? The last thing I'd want to do is go to a concert with Donny against his will… especially when there was some bad juju between us.

Liz lifted herself up and quickly placed her lips on mine in this sloppy, wet kiss. "I missed you," she said behind hooded eyes.

I brushed her hair out of her face and took in her worn demeanor. Although she wasn't one to talk about her emotions, her eyes definitely spoke for themselves… and her thoughts attested to her broken heart.

"I missed you, too." I tried not to wear a look of pity.

Liz immediately attacked my lips, wrapping her arms around me. I wasn't prepared to bear her weight… so we ended up toppling onto the floor with me on top of her.

"Mm… ah," I winced a bit with my arm trapped underneath us as she let out a bellowing laugh into my mouth. I struggled to push myself up. She held her hands up as I stood over her. There was this seductive smirk laced on her face, and even though she was in such an inebriated state, she looked mind-blowingly sexy. I know this isn't the time to entertain such thoughts, but her vulnerability is so stunning that I can't help but gravitate towards her.

"What'cha thinkin' bout, love?" She bit her lip as I started to wonder whether my mind-reading powers were rubbing off on her.

"Nothing," I reached down and lifted her to her feet. She immediately brushed my hair out of her face as she dove for my lips. I tasted hints of gin and lime as her nails dragged against my exposed hips. My hands ran over her shoulders and effectively discarded her jacket.

Prohibition never stood a chance against exhibition. I grunted, giving into my desires. She moaned, giving into an escape from the pain now that the alcohol was losing its power. I didn't know how else to be there for her, but if sex was what she wanted, I would have to oblige, right?

"How..." she mumbled between kisses, "was your day?" With my eyes shut, I knew we were making our way towards my bedroom.

"I brought you a muffin." I kissed her in such haste as she raised my black shirt over my head. I felt a bit chilly, but she wrapped her arms around me and brought warmth to every part of my body.

"Mmm… I only like your muffin." She kissed up and down my neck as I raised her green top off of her. Liz spun us around, causing the door to shut simultaneously as we drowned in the darkness of my room. We stumbled over our own feet, falling into each other until we collided onto the bed, her lips still smothering mine. Her thigh between my legs was only spurring me on. "I need to get these jeans off." She exhaled as she stopped to fiddle with them.

"Let me." I rolled on top of her, sitting up as I unbuttoned her jeans. I inched my way down her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses as I slowly pulled her pants down. She lifted her head to watch my every move.

"You are so… sexyyy…" she mumbled as her head fell back. I yanked her jeans off in one swift motion and tossed them somewhere in the abyss of my bedroom floor.

I kissed up her stomach, gently laying myself on top of her. "And you are so…"

"Zzzzzzzzzz…"

…You have _got _to be kidding me!

Never have I been left in the dust with such blue balls before!

"Babe," I whispered, gently shaking her.

Liz mumbled incoherently before smacking her lips together and rolling onto her side. She curled into a ball before her snoring commenced.

I sighed before I repositioned myself behind her and draped a blanket over us. I gently kissed her temple and enveloped myself around her, doing my best to be whatever it was that she needed.


	17. Chapter 17: Beautiful Girl

Liz managed to escape my apartment before I woke up Thursday morning. She left a note that she had to pack and that she would be going to her mom's after she got her things together. I felt like things were left in the air… that we didn't get to talk about it. She was too drunk when she dropped the news on me, and with Donny there and the way things escalated afterwards, there was just no opportunity to talk.

In a sense, I gathered she was avoiding me. I offered to stop by before my shift with Corinne, but she said she was running errands and what not. I even offered to take her and her mom to the airport Friday morning, but she refused. She said LAX had a free shuttle and she didn't want to burden me. So, my interactions with my girlfriend had been strictly via text message. We talked for a few minutes, but it was very frivolous, superficial talk. I felt like I was walking on eggshells for the most part, especially because any time I tried to bring up her grandmother she would become irritable, unresponsive, or would just change the subject.

She texted me when she boarded the plane yesterday and texted me almost ten hours later when she landed in London before she took her connecting flight. In the meantime, I felt heartbroken and helpless. Sad about her emotional anguish, and frustrated that there was nothing I could do, although I eagerly wanted to do anything to make her feel better. If only she'd let me in.

I know what you're thinking, folks – why don't you just read her mind? Of course I can read her mind, but that doesn't mean my powers tell me what it is that she wants or what it is that she needs from me. I am the closest thing to her own thoughts, but emotionally, she has successfully shut me out. She has successfully shut everyone out.

"So…" Madison crossed her arms, leaning against the broken doorframe of my bathroom, "you're actually gonna go through with this?"

"Yup," I glanced at her for a second before I drew in my eyeliner. "Those are the wishes of my grieving girlfriend."

"Is Donny picking you up?"

"No, we're gonna meet at the House of Blues and have dinner before the concert."

Madison smirked, "Funny with all this 'blast from the past' bullshit."

"What do you mean?"

"Aiden called me yesterday." She briefly smiled before quickly interrupting my assumptions. "But, don't worry, Spence. I didn't answer."

"Weird." I brushed it off, but smiled to myself. Maybe Aiden's finally ready to turn over a new leaf.

"I don't know what the hell he could possibly want, though." She scoffed. "Maybe he wanted to personally invite me to his and Sasha's wedding."

"I think they're over," I blurted.

"What makes you say that?"

I shrugged. "I just have a feeling."

"Bullshit." She raised a brow. "Since when are you on Team Aiden?"

"Since never!" I combed my fingers through my hair before I pushed my way past her.

"Oh my gosh!" Madison exclaimed which got me to turn in my tracks. "You worked with him, didn't you?" Wait… I thought _I _was the mind-reader here. "You worked with Aiden on Wednesday when you covered Corinne's shift!"

"Yeah? So?"

"So, did he like… get you to play this angle for him?"

I scoffed, "What angle? I wasn't even going to tell you that I worked with him."

"You weren't going to tell me?" Her mouth was agape.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Mad?" Now I was getting a bit annoyed. "Are you upset that I talked to him… or that I didn't tell you that I talked to him?"

"Both!" She slapped my arm. "What did he say to you?"

"I…"

"I mean, he broke up with _me!_ So what could he possibly have to say to me?"

"Well—"

"What could he possibly have to say to _you?_"

"He just…"

"You think Donny is on this? You think they set this up?"

"That's ridiculous! He wouldn't—"

She glanced away in thought. "Maybe he's trying to get to me through you."

"Madison!" I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her until she met my eyes with her own. "Nothing is going on, okay? He's not with Sasha anymore." I let go of her before I threw on my brown jacket over the black cami I was wearing.

"And Donny?" She squeaked.

"Donny was an accident. Liz just happened to be at the right bar at the wrong time when she bonded with him." I fixed the collar of my jacket under my blue pashmina. "I don't think he's in on anything, alright? So, enough with the crazy."

"So…" she sat down on the couch and looked up at me. _"You think I should talk to him?"_

"I can't answer that for you." I shook my head as I grabbed my purse and keys. "I'm gonna head out now. You gonna be okay here by yourself?"

"Jton's coming over." She leaned back into the couch, her back facing me.

"Okay, good." I opened the door. "I'll see ya."

"Spence?" Madison yelped, the back of her head still facing me.

"Yeah?"

"How's he doing?" She mumbled.

I paused to sigh. "You want the truth?"

She faintly nodded.

"He's miserable." I replied. She remained unresponsive, though by her thoughts, I sensed a wave of relief wash over her. I wanted to stay for her, but I couldn't miss dinner with Donny. "Let's talk more when I get back?"

"Yeah, okay." She still had this uncertain look in her eyes. "Have fun with Donny."

Right. 20 bucks says he stands me up.

I walked up Sunset Strip from where I had parked my car a few blocks away. By now, the sun had set and a line was beginning to form around the entrance into the actual concert hall. I smiled, remembering my concert date with Liz on one of our first dates. It kinda made me nostalgic. The flirting and courting period is so exciting and flattering… and the first few months of disgustingly cute displays of affection and not nearly getting enough of one another are always what make the honeymoon stage awesome. But, then the real work starts after that… when you're trying to sustain your relationship and keep the spark alive. And in our case, I think the second Liz broke down was the moment shit got real. Part of me really misses the beginning and how things used to be. I guess you gotta take the good _with_ the bad. Welcome to the Real World – relationships.

I walked towards the porch where Donny and I had agreed to have dinner first and get reacquainted. Sure, in any normal circumstance, going straight to the concert would've made the night less awkward – we wouldn't have to talk. But because I have extraordinary powers that won't seem to be going away anytime soon, it wouldn't stop the fact that he'd be thinking whatever it was he would be thinking in an awkward situation with an ex-BFF. We figured dinner would make things a tad less uncomfortable. Not saying that things would go back to normal… please, I'm not a miracle worker.

"Hi!" The bubbly hostess greeted me. "How many?"

"Uh," I noticed my dark faux-hawk-haired friend wave me down from a table behind. "Oh, my party's already here." I gestured.

"Okay," she nodded, "Enjoy your dinner!"

Walking towards him, I couldn't help but feel like I was taking some sort of walk of shame. His eyes were glued on me and I pretended to be that cool girl who's never been to the _House of Blues_ before and just had to gawk at all the cool memorabilia on the wall. Anything to avoid eye contact.

"Hey," he stood up.

Okay, what do I do? Do I hug him? Did we _used_ to hug whenever we saw each other? You know, it's been so long, I can't even remember… how sad is that?

"Hey!" I said in a pitch higher than Mariah Carey's 8th octave. He quirked an eyebrow as I quickly sat down in all my shame. Fuck it.

He followed suit, brushing down his dark grey collared shirt before sipping his Jameson.

"Been here long?" I hung my purse on the corner of my chair.

The ice clinked in his glass as he set it down. "No, not too long. Traffic wasn't too bad."

"Yeah." I sighed, periodically glancing at him… and everything else around. "So…"

"So…" Donny gave a tight lipped smile as he crossed his arms over the table. "You look good!"

"Not so bad yourself," I retorted.

"Yeah…" He smacked his lips together. _"So, _this_ isn't going to be the least bit awkward."_

"Then, why is it?" I scrunched my eyebrows.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know," Donny retorted, finally giving up on the front he was putting up. I opened my mouth to break the silence, but he raised his head to look at me. "I… I hope you can forgive me for—"

"Hi, welcome to the House of Blues!" Our waitress interrupted. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Uh… I'll have—"

"A Cranberry Vodka," Donny smirked.

"Okay?" She looked to me for confirmation before she turned back to my dark-haired friend. "And another Jameson on the rocks for you?"

"Yes, with a twist." I winked. He's not the only one who can play that game.

"O-kay!" She clasped her hands together as Donny and I shared knowing smiles. "I'll be back with your drinks."

The waitress left as he shook his head, chuckling, "We still finish—"

"Each other's sentences," we said simultaneously. I snickered.

"Yeah," Donny mumbled.

"Well," I began to fuss with the neatly folded dinner napkin on the able, "You're still my best friend, Donny."

"Mine too," he said with a crooked smile, his glances falling to the empty glass on the table.

"To be honest," I peeled my eyes off the napkin to meet his stare, "I've missed you. I miss talking to you and telling you everything that's been going on! I feel like there's _so_ much I have to tell you!" It was relieving to also put my guard down and just… be open again.

"Yeah?" He sat up. "Like what? What's the latest scoopage?"

I, too, sat up in my seat, nearly unable to keep all my thoughts from spilling out. I was so glad he was being genuinely receptive. "Well, you've met Liz."

"Yes," he nodded, "the new girlfriend." He paused. "Or… I guess… not so new."

"Yeah."

"Well, from what I've seen, she seems quite the gal." He smiled. "She has a good heart and she really cares about you." He paused. "And you… you seem happy again. Something tells me she's had a lot to do with that."

I pulled a few loose strands behind my ear and nodded, "Yeah, she's… she's perfect, actually." A small smile crept onto my face.

"Have you talked to her since she left?"

"Uh… yeah! She checked in a few times, but she couldn't really talk long." I shrugged. "Understandably, she has a lot going on."

He nodded. "Give her my best. I know how hard it can be to lose a family member." For a second, Donny reminisced about his close-knit relationship with his grandfather.

"I will."

His thoughts changed as a guilty look wore on his face, "Did I mention how sorry I am that I missed out on your birthday party?"

"You did," I affirmed.

"I didn't know how to—"

"It's okay, Donny. It's no big deal." I didn't wanna get in the mix of what happened in the past and totally ruin things. It's almost as if things were… starting to go back to normal for once. I didn't wanna jeopardize that.

We had a brief, but necessary, lull in the conversation as our waitress brought our drinks. Donny put in a quick order for sliders as I promptly glanced through the menu and ordered a club sandwich. When she walked away, the both of us couldn't help but subtly check out the girl. The layers of her shiny, brown hair feathered out in all the right places and she had kind eyes…

Ha! Who am I kidding? She had a cute butt! She must do yoga.

"Want me to get her number for you?" Donny smirked.

"Psh… she's straight as an arrow. No, thank you!"

"Right. That is a much better reason than the fact that you are in a monogamous relationship." He laughed.

"Oh, shut up!" I chuckled before I sipped my drink.

"So, what else has been going on?"

"Aiden and Madison are over."

"Yeah, I gathered." Donny cleared his throat. "We still hang out… me, Aid, Eddie. I knew something was up when he brought Sasha around."

"So, Aiden and Sasha are together then?" I decided to get a second opinion to see if Aiden was lying the other day.

"Naw," he shook his head, "they just hooked up, but there was definitely nothing more than that. She's back in Michigan."

I nodded as he sipped his Jameson.

"Has… Madison moved on to someone else?"

"As far as I can tell, she's just… having fun. I wouldn't call it serious…" I cleared my throat, "yet."

"What?" Donny asked incredulously. "Is it Glen?"

"Nope," I shook my head proudly.

"Wow. Who would have thought there'd be a guy out there Madison would be more intrigued with than Aiden?" Yeah… right. If this so-called "guy" had a vagina and soft, feminine features and… well… wasn't really a guy at all.

"Yeah, how 'bout that?" My eyes went wide for a second as I subtly rolled them. "How about you? What have you been up to? How's Sarah?"

"Sarah's doing well. She got a job at Forever 21. She's really enjoying it."

"Oh! Good for her!" I was surprised to hear that Princess Sarah finally decided to get a job instead of mooch off her boyfriend.

"Yeah, it gets her out of the house and keeps her from nagging me to death." He said so frankly.

"Because that doesn't make you sound like an old married couple." I chortled, "God forbid she spends her days eating bon-bons and watching soap operas."

"Oh god." He paused, rolling his eyes. "Everything's pretty much the same with me. I still work at the Dubliner. It's kinda cool working for Eddie. He and Aiden are really into guns and stuff. They took me to the shooting range a few times. It's a huge stress reliever aside from going to the gym. Pretty fun. We should go sometime!"

"Uh, I'll go… to spectate maybe. Shooting stuff's not really my thing."

"Fair enough." Donny smirked. "How are things at the café?"

"Um…" I began to fiddle with my hands a bit, "they're the same. I work my shifts with Corinne now. Sometimes with Mark. But I never really see Aiden."

"Jenna still giving you a hard time?"

"Oh you know… she'll never like me, but she has gotten off my back a bit. Charles is hardly around, but when he is, he's barricaded in his office."

"Right." Donny gave me another tight-lipped smile. "So…" Uh oh. "Am I ever gonna know?" He took a gulp of his Jameson.

"Know what?"

"You're the mind-reader. You tell me." He shrugged. He wanted to know about the tape.

"There's nothing to know about it." I watched the condensation from my glass drip down my fingertips, resembling the sweat that would be dripping down the side of my head if it wasn't for the cool breeze coming through the doorway. "There was nothing on the tape. So, I think it's time you let that one go." I couldn't help but sound so direct. I _really_ didn't wanna go there.

Regardless, I sensed the mood change so drastically. And suddenly, things seemed to revert back to square one.

"Let it go?" He laughed, his eyes jutting wide at the thought. "Spencer, I got fired for something I didn't do. I need to wipe my slate clean. Did you know that Aiden had to pull some strings for Eddie to hire me? I can't get another job with 'theft' on my employment record. Do you understand that?"

"I get it." I retorted, somewhat annoyed.

"Good! Do you still have the tape?"

I flinched for a split second. "No."

"You forget that I know when you're lying." He said so evenly as he glared at me. "And given my situation, it shouldn't be a problem for you to give me the tape."

I stared at my drink, not knowing how to respond.

"C'mon, Spence!" Now it was his turn to sound annoyed. "I don't have time for these games! If you ever gave two shits about me, you'd help me out!"

"Me caring about you has nothing to do with that tape," I nearly snarled. "I already told you there's nothing on it!"

"Well, if there's nothing on it, you'd give me the tape." Donny reasoned.

I resigned, pleading with my eyes for him to just understand. "I-I can't do that." If only he could just understand!

"You know," He grabbed his wallet and put some cash on the table before standing up, "I was stupid to think that after awhile, you'd come to your senses and realize that something as lame as a surveillance tape shouldn't rip our friendship apart. I got fired for no reason from the job I loved, working with all my good friends! And you don't have the decency to allow me the closure of finally understanding what I was putting my neck on the line for?" He paused. "Sarah was right. I should've listened to her."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. There wasn't much I could say at that point. So, I just watched him walk away… and out of my life.

I ate half my sandwich contemplating how different my life would be if I didn't see what I saw the night of the accident. If I wasn't a mind-reader. If I could just live a normal life instead of one strewed with broken relationships.

Wouldn't it be nice?

I relish in the thought… but, then I think: What would've happened to Ashley if I didn't do what I did and she was found out?

I subtly raised my glass to no one. Here's to taking one for the team.

Walking into the concert hall, I tried my best not to look completely alone and somewhat miserable on a night meant for two. After all, I was about to see William Fitzsimmons and Ingrid Michaelson, which constitutes a night of total awesomeness. I was determined to have a great time.

I headed to the bar to the right side of the pit, which was already flooding with fans, young and old. I flagged the bartender down.

"Absolut cran, please?"

He nodded, wiping his hands before starting on my drink.

"_Is that… Spencer?"_

I cringed, knowing my night was going to be memorable… but not in a good way.

"Spencer?" She gently tapped my shoulder. I shuddered at her touch as if her hands were like ice. I turned my head. "I thought it was you! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Melinda, hey!" Not only was I spending the evening alone, I had to grin like an idiot at the person I spent harsh days and sleepless nights trying to get over. I'm over it. I'm over her. But that doesn't mean I want to be BFF's with her. You forgive, but you never really forget those who broke your heart.

"What are you doing here?" She hugged me, not in the fondest sense. She made no body contact as she pat me softly on the back with her free hand, similar to how you'd burp a newborn. I was already bored watching her chug her third drink, as she contemplated what she should order next.

I pointed to the stage indifferently. "Concert." I didn't feel like mindless chit chat with the ex.

"Obviously." She giggled and nudged me on the shoulder. I clenched my jaw, but had to remind myself that she was not in a completely sober state. I smiled tightly.

"Who you here to see?" I was truly curious to know, since I never knew her to like the same type of music as me.

"Ingrid Michaelson. You?"

"Fitzsimmons. Since when are you an Ingrid Michaelson fan?"

"I like some of her songs, but Vanessa's a big fan." I hate to admit that Vanessa's got great taste in music... but she's still a bitch. Don't get me wrong.

"Oh." I started to get uneasy because A) the bar has gotten exponentially crowded, forcing us to talk in such close proximity that I could smell the alcoholic stench coming from her pores, B) I knew an angry Vanessa was making a bee line right to us and C) I dreaded the intrusive question that was tunneling through Melinda's brain stem and was lingering at the tip of her tongue.

"You here by yourself?"

"Melinda." Vanessa called over as she continued to push her way through the crowds. She gave me a hard glare when I caught her glances.

"At a concert to which I was given tickets for on my birthday? Of course not!" I bluffed, and perhaps I bit off more than I could chew. Melinda was definitely one to prod.

"Oh my gosh, that's right! Happy belated birthday! I totally forgot." She slapped her forehead. Great acting, I must say. But she's not fooling me. She knew, and she's acting like this to pretend she doesn't care about me… even just a little bit.

"It's okay." I shrugged. Whatever.

"So, who's your lucky date?"

"My girlfriend." I didn't hesitate. At least I could say Liz was here with me in spirit, though I would give anything for her to bail me out right now.

"Your _girlfriend_?" It came out like an incredulous statement. Melinda nodded, her eyes fluctuating in width for a millisecond before she shook it off. I liked that she finally knew I wasn't sitting by the phone waiting for her to call as I went through tissue box after tissue box to dry my tears.

She started to become skeptical, having the audacity to think I am as immature as she is. Melinda convinced herself I was lying to her to mess with her head and play games.

"Well, where is she? I'd very much like to meet her." She squinted as if this whole interaction was a strategic chess game to her.

I looked to the drink the bartender neatly placed on a cocktail napkin in front of me. "She's—"

"Back from the restroom!" I suddenly felt a comforting arm reach around my waist and squeeze me gently. "Sorry, the line to the little girls' room was ridiculously long." I stared up at those big brown eyes and heart-stopping grin. I couldn't help but smile back because, honestly, it felt like it'd been too long. From the corner of my eye, I could see Melinda's jaw drop just slightly before I turned to her. I didn't know where this was going so I was just going to follow her lead. "Hi, I'm Ashley."

"Melinda. Nice to meet you." She hesitantly shook Ashley's hand. I sipped my drink briefly and enjoyed the perfect ratio of vodka to cran.

"Oh, let me." Ashley threw some cash on the counter with no regard to how much she'd put down.

"Thanks, Ash."

"No problem, sweetie!" Oh, I see where this is going. I leaned into her embrace. "So, how do you know my _amazing_ girlfriend?" Ashley picked the blonde mess apart. Yet, all I could think about was the soft, sweet scent wafting from the skin on her generously exposed neck.

"Aww, you make me blush." I grinned with the most adoring look on my face as I looked into Ashley's eyes. They're so mesmerizing and I'd just noticed a tinge of hazel in them. I took delight in the fact that our acting was free permission for me to gaze as long as I'd wished. It made Melinda squirm, but I could almost care less. "Melinda's actually… my ex."

"Really?" Ashley said in more of a matter-of-fact statement than a question before turning to the blonde. "Well, I'll definitely enjoy reaping the benefits of your losses." We smirked simultaneously as Melinda's face turned red. Ashley's hand ran down my back and finally rested around my hip, leaving what felt like a perpetual trail of tingles.

"Melinda." Vanessa reached in and grabbed her hand, pulling her effortlessly out of our little impromptu performance. "Come on. Show's about to start."

"_What just happened?"_ Loved that we were a total buzz kill for her.

"Thank you," I said in all sincerity as we let out of our couple-y embrace. Suddenly, it felt so foreign to be this far from her. "How much do I owe you for the drink?"

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's okay." She turned to lean her elbows on the bar. "So, _that's_ Melinda, huh? She deserved what was coming to her." She spoke loudly into my ear as the opening band started playing and everyone started cheering.

"She was always the pretentious type, always looking to one-up the people she felt threatened by." I raised a brow as I turned to the brunette. "You must take pleasure in saving me from inappropriate and would-be embarrassing moments, huh?"

"I happened to be in the area." Ashley smirked before sipping her Jack and Coke. "I had to admit, it was pretty fun watching you squirm from across the room."

"Gee, thanks." I responded in sarcasm as I watched the bright lightning from the stage cast its various colors across the crowd, entrancing everyone present. I felt entranced myself… but it had nothing to do with the lighting. There was something in the way she looked at me, and I would give anything to know what it was. "So, are you going to tell me or do I have to ask?"

"Tell you what?" Ashley shrugged.

I rolled my eyes at that growing smirk on her lips. "You missed class all week. Where've you been all this time?"

"Missed me, huh?" She was fully smiling now. "Gee, Carlin, did you do anything else besides think about me while I was gone?"

"Careful, Davies. You're treading on thin ice."

"You're not even denying it." Ashley chuckled.

"Anyways!" I barked. "Where'd you go?"

"Nowhere in particular." She took a sip of her drink.

"Recovering from a hangover?" I smirked.

Ashley laughed, "It was… pretty brutal. I'm not gonna lie."

"First hangovers usually are." I said so matter-of-factly before sipping my drink. "I'd buy you a drink to thank you for the _A_ I got on that paper you helped me write, but I don't know how many drinks you've already had."

"Well, I'm…" she placed her drink down on the bar as she turned to face me, "sober as a nun." I raised a brow, not understanding what she was getting at. "Spencer, I'm… myself again."

"What?" My eyes danced around her body. She didn't look any different. "So, it just… wore off?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I haven't slept for days and I pretty much finished a few bottles from the bartender's top shelf." Ashley said so nonchalantly in my ear.

"Huh. No kidding." I paused still contemplating all of this. "So, how do you feel about not being human anymore?"

"I don't know what to think, really." She grabbed her drink again as we both leaned over the bar top. "Kudos on the paper though. You really kicked ass!"

"I couldn't have done it without you. You know that, right?" I glanced up at her.

"Of course you could." She ducked her head humbly, hiding a bashful smirk. "So, you're here alone?"

I nodded.

"Why?"

I took a quick sip of my drink. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I asked first." Ashley brushed her curls across her shoulder.

I rolled my eyes as she smiled so coyly at me. "Well, Liz was supposed to join me tonight, but she had to skip town for her grandmother's funeral."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Her eyebrows furrowed. "My condolences."

"Thank you." I smiled sympathetically.

"I saw your friend Donny on the way out as I was heading in."

"Yeah, he came with me in her place."

She continued to stare at me, prodding for more information, I suppose. "And he left when he found out this wasn't a Justin Bieber concert?"

We both laughed for a bit before I cleared my throat. "No, he's still upset with me over something." I shook my head. "Enough about me. Why are you here by yourself?"

"I enjoy listening to the talented William Fitzsimmons. And Jton doesn't fancy the same type of music as me."

My eyes grew wide. "William Fitzsimmons is my favorite!"

"Yeah, I used to hear him playing on the pipe organ and guitar when I was passing through Pittsburgh. His family's very kind." She smiled. "Care to join me? I like watching from the balcony. It's a little less crowded."

As we walked up the steps, the loud banter from concert goers walking up and down the steps wasn't loud enough to distract me from the light pressure I was feeling on my lower back… where Ashley's hand gently pressed as I walked slightly ahead of her. It was dizzying to say the least.

We stood over the edge of the balcony and I found myself swaying to Ingrid Michaelson's _The Way I Am_ in the small space I was standing in. I periodically glanced over at Ashley, watching her sway and bob her head to the music. Her eyes gazed into mine and we found ourselves grinning at each other… her reasons unknown to me, but I smiled, feeling ecstatic that my night had turned around significantly.

Although the balcony was supposedly less crowded, it was a sold out concert. People began piling up behind us as the headlining act was setting up. Consequently, Ashley and I were pushed into each other's personal space. I kept my eyes ahead at the stage, diverting my attention and praying I don't do anything awkward.

The crowd cheered loudly as William Fitzsimmons made his way to a single stool on the stage. He lifted his acoustic guitar into his lap before greeting the packed hall. I could feel the glances of the crowd behind us, glued to the artist on stage… and I could smell the intoxicating scent of the brunette so close to me. We were all entranced with his music as he started to artistically strum at the acoustic strings.

**Unfurl your gown.**

**A distant fuller skin.**

**I knew you once.**

I swallowed hard, feeling his music move me. I took a sip of my drink, just living and loving this moment.

**My God the sun.**

**The windows bear your bones.**

**Reveal your crime.**

**Beautiful girl.**

**Let the sunrise come again.**

**Beautiful girl.**

For a second, I heard Ashley gasp very quietly. I looked at her, noticing her flushed face.

**Your sailor eyes.**

**The water in the well.**

**A thirst to fill.**

Her chest was heaving. I then realized my fingers were laced around her wrist. When did _that_ happen?

**Let down your arms.**

"Oh, sorry," I mouthed, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear me amidst the music. But, I was reluctant to let go for some reason.

**The purging of this dark.**

She slid her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers.

**The fall to free.**

**Beautiful girl.**

Ashley grasped my hand, allowing our palms to touch.

**Let the sunrise come again.**

**Beautiful girl.**

I placed my drink on the balcony and grasped her wrist with my other hand, feeling her pulse against my palms. I was concerned about her feeling faint gain. "Ash," I whispered.

Her only response was a long and staggered sigh. The rest of the audience began to cheer at the conclusion of the song.

I tried to snap her out of a trance she was putting herself in. "Ash," I said out loud.

"I thought I could do this, but I can't." She mumbled, suddenly pulling her hand back. Ashley squeezed her way through the crowd.

What did she mean? Do what?

Seconds later, I found myself doing what I do all too often: I followed her out. Ashley was already speed-walking towards the lot when I stepped out and saw her in the distance. I began jogging in her direction. She turned sharply into the stairwell. When I got to the staircase, I looked over the railing. "Ashley!" I called out, but noticed her shadow disappear a few flights down. It was apparent she wasn't going to stop for anything.

I carefully ran down and when I exited the stairwell, I saw her Prius pull out from a parking space a few feet down. I walked in her path, knowing that the only way for her to leave was to run me down.

"Get out of the way, Spencer." She spoke out of her open window.

"No."

"Get out of the way!" Ashley said more sternly.

"No!"

She glared at me before violently shifting the gear and shutting the engine off. Ashley stepped out of the car and I quickly made my way towards her.

"Why are you here?" She shut the door behind her to mute the beeping noise from the keys in the ignition. "Why did you follow me?" The brunette sounded annoyed.

"What? It's not enough for Donny to run out on me that you had to run out, too?" I huffed. If only she knew the reason Donny and I had a falling out. I wasn't about to let _two _people walk out on me on the same night. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." Ashley responded abruptly.

"Why are you running away right now?"

"I have to go… meet someone." She crossed her arms in affirmation. Who was she trying to kid?

"Really?" I raised a brow. "In the middle of a William Fitzsimmons concert?"

The brunette didn't respond.

"Ash, I'm not buying it. This is me you're talking to. Be honest with me… please?"

She shook her head, exhaling her frustration. "I… just can't be around you right now. I thought I could… but I can't."

I looked into her eyes and let silence do the heavy lifting for a second while I contemplated the meaning behind it. "Why not?"

"I think you know why." She responded in a quiet tone.

"Right." I nodded. "Because I make you sick." I turned to leave. Save myself the embarrassment.

Before I could get very far, I felt her hand grab mine. Ashley pulled me back a little closer, and all I could comprehend was the fact that she hadn't let go of my hand, nor was it apparent that she wanted to. We both looked down at our hands before she grasped just a little tighter. I felt her pulse surging through her fingertips.

"Not because you make me sick," she glanced into my eyes, "but because it makes me sick not being with you."

I was taken aback. "Ash—"

"Spencer," she ran her hand through my hair and neatly brushed the locks over my shoulder. I felt her hand graze my cheek. "I'm in love with you."

I swallowed hard, confused at the impact of such words. When the hell did all of this happen? Was I there for any of this? I mean… I know there might have been some feelings dwelling, but love? She's in _love_ with _me_?

Before I could react in any way, shape or form, Ashley took a short step forward and gently wrapped her lips around mine. The air around me suddenly went deaf and I was even further dumbfounded at the events that have unfolded before me. I felt all tingly in my extremities and concluded that that must've been my brain cells running for the hills.

This unsettling yet warm feeling sat heavily on my chest as Ashley backed away enough so that our lips were only centimeters apart.

"I-I can't…" I uttered, my eyes still shut.

"I know," she whispered.

At that point, I knew she was daring me to walk away. She stood motionlessly, aside from her chest rising and falling uncontrollably. I could feel her hot breath dancing across my lips.

I then felt some unexplainable force from within compel my nerves as I leaned forward to rejoin our lips. She finally let go of my hand only to wrap her arms around my waist as our kiss quickly deepened. Her hands ran up my sides until they found themselves cupping my cheeks.

I was drowning in her, and that's all I could want right now.

Ashley finally pulled back, exhaling what I only knew could be gratefulness. I opened my eyes, noticing her eyes fixated on her thumb slowly brushing over my lip. "That was… definitely better than the first time," she said in a low tone.

I smiled. "At least you know I'll remember it this time."

The corner of her lips curled as we embraced each other. I swallowed hard, still feeling like I was beside myself. I didn't want to let go of this moment, but my mind was only telling me that I had to because it wasn't going to last forever. I felt Ashley sigh heavily. "Spencer?"

"Yeah Ash?"

Her embrace tightened. "I'm gonna go now." She kissed my shoulder. "Please… whatever you do… don't tell Liz. I don't… I don't want you two to end, especially on my account."

I stepped back. My eyes blinked as I realized what she was saying. "Is that what you want?"

Ashley bit her lip for a second with a contemplative look on her face. "It doesn't matter what I want."

"Of course it matters!"

She shook her head very decisively. "Just don't… don't make it harder than it has to be." Ashley let my hand go and turned to get into her car.

I didn't want her to leave. But at the same time, what was I supposed to say?


	18. Chapter 18: Lie to Me

_**Hey everyone! I know this is a long time coming, but happy 2013! **_

_**So, I know… I'm totally lame for not posting a chapter for the longest time. I wanted to make sure the world didn't end with an angsty chapter hanging out there… LOL okay no, but believe me when I say I had to really take my time in developing the plot for this and the next 2 chapters, since these are pretty pivotal (and angsty) upcoming chapters. Please accept my apologies!**_

_****__**I have 6 minutes to post this before it's February 15th in California, but I wanted to post this on February 14th because... even though the world is celebrating a day of love (rightfully so!)... today is my beta's birthday! This is my gift to her, since she specifically requested for an update by her birthday. So, thanks to her for the inspiration in posting a chapter already! I had planned to post 3 chapters worth of robust plot development at once, but a promise is a promise. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BGITW! xoxo! :)**_

_**I also have a confession to make - I do stalk you LOL… okay, not creeper status, but I enjoy checking bios of all you who review/favorite me or my stuff. I like getting an idea of what kind of people read this fic and I get an idea of what types of stories you like based on which fics you read/favorite. I swear I'm not a stalker, but it's kinda cool when I'm like "oh yeah, I like that fic/author too!" And to no surprise, this fic does draw in a lot of Twilight fans and more of the younger crowd than my other fic, Delta One. Anyways, I can't get enough… if you happen to drop a review, please feel free to drop a fun fact or two about yourself as well. Or hey, if you don't care to leave a review right now, but wanna drop a fun fact, I like that too! It's kinda nice to feel connected to you beyond what you think of this fic :)**_

_**Another thing I wanted to get your feedback on… When I started Daunting Silence, I decided that this would be strictly rated-T and that I wouldn't even touch smut or change the rating for a chapter or two… or three or four. But, for future reference, what's your stance on the smut?**_

_**Okay… longest A/N ever! Just wanted to say THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for reading! And thank you, kate529 for the PM! Really appreciate the support! :) **__**I will try to get chapters out faster and hope you enjoy it! **__** 2.14.13**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or its characters.**_

* * *

_Ding._

The timer sounded and I immediately grabbed the oven mitt before slowly prying the door open. The heat immediately brushed against my face and I carefully took the chicken out of the oven. It was perfectly baked under this thick, creamy layer of mushroom gravy. I checked the recipe again for finishing touches. Pinched a little lemon pepper on top and it was good to go.

I sighed at my creation, smiling to myself with satisfaction. The veggies had succulent grill marks on them and the homemade mash potatoes were to die for.

Hell yeah, I can cook! 'Tis the magic of the Food Network!

"What smells so delicious in here, Spence?" Madison sauntered down the hallway and into the kitchen.

I looked over my shoulder at her, "Just dinner."

"Since when did you go all Kat Cora on me?" She leaned over the chicken and gave it a whiff.

I chuckled, "I can cook. But, just because I can doesn't mean I _want_ to."

"Look at you," she turned to me, her hand firmly placed on her hip, "all domesticated and shit." My roommate gazed at my red apron with white polka dots.

I shrugged, giving her a crooked smile.

"_Someone's getting laid tonight!"_ She thought as she cocked a brow expectedly.

I feigned surprise. "You mean to tell me that tonight's the night you and Jton go all the way?"

"Shut up!" Madison squealed as I laughed boisterously.

"You set yourself up every time, Mad!" I chuckled.

"Whatever," she crossed her arms, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "We're just having fun, she and I." She needlessly explained herself.

"Not my business," I quelled her inner monologues of trying to explain her casual relationship, let alone a casual relationship with another female.

"Well, thanks… for that."

"Just do you." I smiled genuinely and she chuckled, nodding in affirmation. "So," I turned to grab some apples and romaine lettuce out of the fridge, "I know we haven't had a chance to talk this week, what with our busy schedules and all, but I meant what I said about checking in with you to see how you were doing about—"

"Aiden," she blurted.

I glanced at her, surprised at her certainty that she hadn't forgotten, "Yeah."

"Well," Madison proceeded to settle on top of one of our barstools, "it's… confusing, to say the least. I could've sworn that he and Sasha were a thing, you know? _He_ broke up with _me_, so what could he possibly want from me than to rub it in my face even more?"

"You never told me what went down when you told him." I started washing down and peeling the lettuce, facing her at the sink.

"Well, he knew Glen had been over because he found Glen's hat and all. You know that part." She explained as I nodded. "So, he called me out on it and I _could've_ lied to him, like I actually contemplated lying, but I figured 'what's the point,' you know?"

"Sure, but what was the point in making out with Glen?" She gave me a pointed look and I immediately raised my hands in defense, "Not judging. Just asking."

"I don't know," she huffed, more frustrated with herself than the question at hand. "Glen and I have history, you know? And when he's around, we fall into this familiarity that I can't explain." She paused, with a slight smile on her face, taking a moment to acknowledge that about my idiot brother. Suddenly, her face turned pseudo-serious, "I blame him though, the fucking idiot that he is."

I chortled, "It's a two-way street, my friend."

"Well, he's so damn… good…" Madison whined, "_Great_ at flirting! It sucks me in every time, I swear. He may be dumb as a doorpost, but the boy can charm, I'll give him that."

"God, you're so fucking easy," I laughed and she threw a dishtowel at me. "I'm joking!" She knowingly shook her head at me, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I don't get it though. If things are so great with Glen, why didn't you ever try getting back with him?"

Madison gave the question serious thought before we both knew the answer spurring on from her brain stem. "Because," she sighed, "deep down inside, I knew that what Aiden and I have, and would've had in the future if he didn't dump me, would've been worth any compliment your brother can throw. What Aiden and I had, even if he didn't show it some times—okay, most times—was really, _really_ worthwhile. No fling with Glen could ever topple that."

"Did Aiden know that?"

"Hmm, no. The guy is like a brick wall! He doesn't do romantic. His idea of being romantic is telling me my ass looked plumper than usual," she rolled her eyes, as I smirked. That's Aiden being Aiden. "Which, in girl terms, means 'you're getting fat!' That's one of the reasons I fall back into Glen whenever he's around. He makes me feel beautiful and wanted."

"Much like what Jton does for you now?"

She inhaled sharply, about to feign insult, but her thoughts admitted to the validity of my question. "Jton is a charmer," she nodded. "And we're having fun. That's all!"

"Fine, fine." I began slicing at the strained lettuce.

"Huh," she pondered aloud, "maybe I _am_ easy."

"I'm glad you've moved past the first stage of denial," I laughed.

"But yeah," Madison revisited the previous topic, "Aiden doesn't do romantic. He doesn't express feelings and emotions. It's like… guy code or something."

"But he was obviously jealous over the Glen issue to go so far as to break up with you, right?"

"Yeah, I guess that's his way of expressing himself." She scoffed, "That's what you get when you have two of the hottest people in Los Angeles in a constant power struggle of a relationship, trying to one-up the other."

"Eventually, one gives in."

"And that would be him."

"How do you figure?" I asked, trying to get her side of it even though Aiden's revelations from last week basically showed Madison had topped him. She didn't know that, though. She doesn't have to. "I hate to point out the obvious, but he dumped you and moved on to Sasha Miller."

"And yet, he's calling me."

"Aaaand… you freaked out about it."

"Hey, whose side are you on here?" Even though she said it with a smile, she was pretty serious about wanting to know why I kept raining on her parade.

"No one's, but it just goes to show that you ain't all that and a bag of potato chips. Neither of you are."

Madison scrunched her face, "Who says that anymore? No one takes you seriously if you're using lines from 1998."

"Thanks for the tip." I quickly dismissed her comment. "So, did you call him back?"

"I don't have reason to." Her ego was her worst defense. "Why should I?" She gawked at me like I was completely ridiculous for even asking.

"See, the way the telephone works is when someone calls you, it usually means they want to talk to you." I responded so matter-of-factly.

"Ah, thank god! I wasn't sure what that ringing piece of technology was used for."

"Seriously."

"No, Spence." Her tone became grave. "If he wanted to talk to me so badly, he would've left a message."

"Okay." I shrugged. I wasn't up for arguing with my roommate. I don't know how many times I would have to reiterate to her that it takes two to tango. Hmm… does anyone even say _that_ phrase anymore?

"I'm over it, Spence. I'm above getting hurt again by that brick wall. And you should be supportive of me, trying to move on from all of this bullshit!"

"I _am_ supportive. I just don't think Aiden knows how to communicate his feelings, for lack of better terms, with you. What if he realizes he fucked up? What then?"

"Well, tough shit. He's gonna have to try harder to get my attention. One missed call doesn't mean anything." She glanced at her nails, as if that would've shielded her from being so overly exposed to her roommate.

"You're absolutely right… and I understand."

There was an awkward silence that filled the room as the sound of the knife slicing through the crisp lettuce and bluntly hitting the chopping board orchestrated itself between Madison's inner monologues of assuring herself that she's not in the wrong. She knew I could hear them, which is what forced her to change the subject so abruptly.

"What time does Liz arrive?"

"She gets in…" I glanced at the clock on the microwave, "in about an hour. I'm gonna leave in a few to go pick her up." I watched her pick up one of the grilled asparagus spears I had already plated. She bit into the slight crispness of it, nodding her approval at the taste. "What are your plans tonight?"

"Oh, you know…" she shrugged, "the usual." Here Bar became Madison's go-to spot on Friday nights with Jton. She was starting to become a regular… what, with the bouncers and bartenders knowing her by name now. I don't know how she managed to get on their good graces after throwing up on one of them. "I better start getting ready." She hopped off the stool and pranced away towards her room. Soon, I could hear the shower running from behind her closed door.

I turned to the adjacent countertop and began sprinkling tiny chives and stirring them into the mash potatoes, when I heard an abrupt knock on the door. I figured Jton was here early, as usual, and would just watch TV here while she patiently waited for my roommate. I gave my hands a quick wipe before reaching for the knob.

When I opened the door, I immediately felt my face slack with seriousness. It had almost been a week since I'd seen her. Part of me was glad to see her. I had been thinking about her all week, and to finally see her right before my eyes just dumbfounded me. But the other part— the greater part of me— was upset that things were severely left in the air. There was no rhyme or reason (that I could figure out) as to why Ashley would tell me what she told me the night of the concert. How could she just… _ninja_ me like that and drop everything on me like a ton of bricks with no explanation?! She _knows_ I'm with Liz. Why would she do that?! Why would she mess with my head? More importantly, why was I letting her?! Ugh!

"Ashley," I broke the silence.

"Spencer, hey." She gave me a small smile as she let out a short breath. I gawked at her and willed myself to keep my gaze on her eyes and nowhere else. Never mind the fact that she looked gorgeous in just dark jeans and a cardinal hipster top under this dark grey cardigan. Ashley Davies was redefining casual wear. "Can I… come in?" She raised a brow.

"Uh… yeah." I stepped aside as she strolled right in, a spiral notebook tucked under her arm. I followed her, carefully watching her eyes pan around the room and at the table I had set.

"I'm here for Madison. I promised her I'd lend her my sociology notes for our final next week."

"She's in the shower." I threw my thumb towards the hallway.

"Hmm."

"So," my hands did this uncertain wringing gesture around my apron. "If you want, you can leave your notes and I'll be sure to let Mad know you stopped by."

Her gaze was suddenly on me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Kicking me out already?" Ashley smirked.

"Well," I scratched my forehead, not sure how to deal with her right now, "I'm kinda in the middle of cooking dinner and I have to leave soon. Sorry, I don't have the time to entertain guests right now."

Ashley looked me up and down, noticing my domestic look before she shrugged. "I don't mind." She moseyed over to the kitchen counter and sat on one of the bar stools.

I rolled my eyes behind her back and made my way to the kitchen to finish cooking. I proceeded to dice the red apples to throw into the salad, but I couldn't help but feel Ashley's stare boring into the side of my head. I sighed deeply, trying my hardest to just be happy at the fact that I was going to see my girlfriend in less than an hour.

I love Liz. I love her. Yes, I do!

"What's with the silent treatment, Carlin?" Her voice filled the small kitchen.

I scoffed, "I could ask you the same thing, Davies." I kept my eyes on the task at hand.

"What are you talk—"

"Umm," my eyebrows shot up while I still kept my gaze on the apple I was chopping, "I distinctly remember calling you several times this past week, but I guess you're too cool to answer your phone."

"I was busy." She retorted as if I should've known her schedule or something. Oh, please! How can she kiss me the way she did and tell me she's in love with me, and then avoid me like the bubonic plague all week, making some stupid excuse that she was busy?! I may be slow, but I'm not _that_ slow.

"How convenient." I finally gazed back at her with slight annoyance as I threw the apple cubes in and tossed the salad.

"Geez, what's the big deal anyway?" She furrowed her eyebrows and had this strange, but slightly entertained smirk on her face… as if it pleased her that I was disturbed.

"Nothing, apparently," I shrugged, my gaze returning to the salad.

"Ashley!" My roommate waltzed right in, wearing her bathrobe. Perfect timing.

The brunette leaned back, removing her elbows from the counter, "I came by to drop off my sociology notes for you." She grinned at my roommate, which only annoyed me more that she wasn't the slightest bit frazzled. Ugh!

"Oh, awesome! Thanks!" Madison nodded. She turned towards me, "Spence, can I borrow your silky, red top? You know… the one that laces up on the sides?"

"Knock yourself out." I gently pulled the apron off of me.

"Heading out?" Madison's voice was surprisingly chipper.

"Yeah," I placed lids on all the hot food, "Gonna go pick her up now."

"Okay," she nodded, "You joining us at Here Bar after your little dinner?"

"Nah," I grabbed my purse, "I was thinking of having a quiet night in. We haven't seen each other for a whole week." I sighed with this smug smile on my face. "Probably catch a movie on Netflix and call it a night." I winked.

I was hoping that talking about Liz would elicit some sort of response out of the brunette, but the Ashley that was indifferently observing the idle chat between my roommate and I was a completely different Ashley than the one who confessed her feelings for me six days ago. It's like night and day! And you don't just pull that type of shit and pretend it never happened! It's just not… normal!

"Yawn… boring!" My roommate made a face at me before she turned to Ashley. "Please tell me you'd be down to hang out with your bestie and yours truly over at Here Bar." Madison pressed her hands together. "Please?"

"I'll try," she shrugged as she stood up, "but, I kinda have a date tonight, too."

What?!

I flinched for a second and even though Ashley's eyes were firmly placed on Madison's, I knew she saw me from her peripheral. I knew she saw that her words had an impact on me.

"Oh, whaaat?" Madison beamed with delight. "With who?!"

"Okay, bye guys!" I grabbed my keys and wordlessly walked out, interrupting the awkward brunette before she could answer.

I need to stop. Seriously. I need to stop thinking that the kiss was anything worth mentioning… much less, worth thinking about. She's acting like it didn't mean anything and I need to do the same.

I parked my car near the International Flights terminal and checked my watch one more time. Traffic down the 405 freeway to get to LAX was a killer. Liz landed 20 minutes ago and texted me once her plane was taxiing down the tarmac, but I knew going through customs and gathering her luggage would take some time.

I passed by a flower vendor and decided to pick up a small bouquet of red carnations. I took in the soft, sweet aroma wafting from the buds in full bloom as I made my way to the terminal. The exit terminal was packed with tons of people flagging down loved ones. You could see smiles on faces and warm hugs at the arrival of many that were just so excited to be in the presence of those waiting. I leaned against the railing and smiled to myself, enjoying this fascinating moment of people-watching that I don't get to do often. There's almost never a negative thought that passes my mind. Whatever the negative thought – lost luggage, delayed flights, screaming kids kicking the backs of chairs for hours on end – they whisked away the moment passengers were reunited with familiar faces.

I felt the tips of petals brush my nose as I inhaled the soft scent so deeply. The delicate scent was nowhere near comparable. The silky feel of the petals grazed my lips as I suddenly had the flashback of the moment her lips touched mine and I was engulfed in the moment. We were in our own world for what felt like hours, even though it was mere seconds. I remembered so vividly how Ashley's smile after our kiss stole the last bit of breath I had in me. And then… the moment was over, like in a dream.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thought away. God, I felt so wrong!

I lifted my eyes from the sea of red petals to see a dark-haired girl in the distance, her piercing eyes glancing back at me from behind those side-swept bangs. She smiled and I knew she was sincerely glad to see me. A wave of relief washed over me as I reacquainted myself to the feeling of being wanted. I smiled back at her, pushing myself off the railing and making small steps towards her. She rolled her black luggage behind those dark-washed jeans and I suddenly missed everything about her.

"Hey, I know you." I grinned as she stopped in front of me and encased me in her arms. I took in her familiar scent as the cellophane of the bouquet crinkled slightly. "I wasn't sure you'd find me in this busy terminal."

Liz chuckled, "It was easy. I just looked around for the hottest girl I could find and there you were."

I laughed as we let out of our embrace. "Beautiful flowers for the beautiful lady." I held the bouquet in front of her.

Her face lit up as she pressed them to her nose. I watched as the petals brushed her lips and her thoughts compared the silky feel to kissing me. I couldn't help the guilt that tried to creep up on me at the thought of how moments ago, I was thinking of the same thing… but it was someone else's lips on my mind. "They're amazing. Thank you, babe!"

I suppressed the guilt with a smile, "Anything for you." I reached around and grabbed her luggage as we proceeded to make our way out of the terminal.

On the car ride home, I held her hand firmly… to the point where I knew my hand was sweaty. I thought that maybe holding onto her would rid the guilt… that having her here and within reach would subdue any residual thoughts of the awkward brunette.

"How was your flight?" I looked over at her once we stopped at a red light.

"Oh, it was much better than going there." She glanced at me. "My connecting in Frankfurt was a short one. So, I didn't have to wait too long. I know the wait makes mom antsy. So, I'll be sure to have her take Lufthansa when she comes home."

"When's she coming home?" I turned and focused on the road as the light shone green.

"Next week. She wanted to spend more time with my aunts and uncles, which I think would be good for her anyway."

"You didn't want to stay longer?"

"Nah, I have a final next week." _"I needed to get away," _she shook her head and I gathered that the trip was a very solemn and intense one. "Besides," I glanced at her as her tune became a more jovial one, "I couldn't spend any more time away from you." Liz kissed the back of my hand. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetie," I sighed my gratefulness, thankful that she was back.

I unlocked the door and switched the light on before throwing my keys on the countertop. Liz dragged her luggage in as I held the door open for her.

"Mmm," she sniffed at the succulent aroma in the room. "Something smells _so_ good!"

"I hope you're hungry." I mumbled before leaning over and kissing her sweetly.

She kicked the door closed before her hands slipped through the front of my coat and slid around my hips. "Can we skip the main course and go straight to dessert?" Liz wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I wrapped my arms around her neck, chuckling before giving her nose a quick peck. "I like to keep it old school, you know? Wine and dine my girl first, but there will definitely be plenty of dessert." I managed to pry myself out of her grasp before I rolled her suitcase into my room. "Make yourself at home. I'll have dinner out shortly."

"Look at that," I heard Liz call out, "candles and everything." I took my coat off and threw it on my bed before making my way back. "You didn't have to go all out on me." She carefully lit the candles propped on the dining table.

"Of course I did," I mumbled against her cheek before kissing it sweetly. "You're worth it." I felt her cheek bulge from that smile as she turned, tossing her dark bangs to the side. She wrapped her arms around me and we shared a comforting, yet passionate kiss.

"_What's that?"_ Liz pulled away for a second, her eyes trained on an object behind me.

"What?" I looked over my shoulder as she reached for a folded note on the countertop.

She read the note out loud, "'Welcome back, Liz. If you're not too jetlagged, come join us at Here Lounge. XO, Madison'"

Fucking Madison. I shook my head to myself. Way to spoil my night!

Liz chuckled, "Hey, look what she left me." Her secure arms left my body and soon she was amused by these Mardi Gras colored beads that had a plastic shot glass dangling from it.

"Oh Madison," I retorted evenly, not the least bit pleased, but I tried my best to smile it off. "You probably are jetlagged, which is why it would be great to enjoy dinner and stay in." I tried combating her thoughts on wanting to go drink and party.

She paused for a moment, weighing her options, before she looked up at me. "Yeah, maybe… we'll see." Liz shook her head, now realizing how rude that sounded. "I mean," she put down the beads and wrapped her arms around me, "of course we're going to enjoy this succulent feast you prepared."

"Thank you," I briefly hugged her before I proceeded to set dinner on the table. Liz grabbed one of Madison's unfinished bottles of white wine from the fridge and poured it at the table.

Once we both had full plates, we carefully dug into the chicken. It came out moist and perfect! I nodded, pleased with my creation.

"Mmm… this is such a tasty meal, sweetie." Liz mumbled, still munching on her food. She pursed her lips at me and I kissed her gently before she raised her glass. "Cheers to being home."

"I'll toast to that!" I lightly tapped it with my own before we sipped the crisp wine. "Glad you like the food!" I smiled at her as she reached out and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"So, how'd the concert go last weekend?" She smiled unknowingly.

"I-It was good! Best birthday gift ever, babe!" My tone was a tad higher than normal and she knew something was off. With the exception of the great music, _everything_ was off! Where do I begin? Donny bailing, Melinda showing up, or Ashley making out with me?

"You're lying." She pointed out as she sifted through her salad with a half smile. "But, that's okay. You don't have to explain." Liz was hard for me to read. She spoke her thoughts, so reading them was futile. But her feelings almost always contradicted them and her emotions were pretty obvious. I wanted to make it better, but I didn't know how.

"I just missed you, that's all. It would've been nice to enjoy the concert together." If Liz was there, none of this would've happened and this unnecessary feeling of remorse would've never existed.

"_She _does_ know that my grandmother died, right?"_ "I know. I wish I was there, too." Liz gave me a tight-lipped smile and I felt like a totally insensitive asshole.

"Liz," I reached over and ran my fingers down the length of her forearm before gripping her hand. "You know I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, concert included… right?"

"Of course," she scoffed with a smile, as if my question was preposterous and out of the blue. "And I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, too."

"Okay, good." I wasn't quite satisfied with her answer, though I knew it was genuine. Thoughts of my insensitivity lingered about. My own thoughts. I was reeking of guilt. "So, tell me about your trip." Her smile dropped a bit, not in a drastically obvious way, but by her thoughts, it was clear that the subject was still a sensitive one.

"It was… okay." She concluded before dipping her fork into her salad.

My eyes turned downward as I picked at the apple cubes on my plate, listening to the crunch of the salad between her teeth. "Did you get to spend some time with your cousins? I remember you saying you're close to them."

"Yeah," she blurted. I bit into an apple cube and took a sip of the wine. "I saw them during the funeral and the days of mourning that followed, which is a religious custom for my family." I could see, then, how her trip had been a very somber one. Her time was spent mostly with family and the days of mourning were very quiet, somber days.

"I see," is all I could say. Death made me feel weird. It never made sense to me that one second someone's there, and another second, they're not. And I never knew the right thing to say or what I could do, if anything, to help.

"Hey, do you mind if we turn the television on or play some music?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she glanced at me. "It's a little too quiet in here for me." _"…And I might start crying."_ She fought the urge.

"Yeah, not at all!" I jumped out of my chair and turned the stereo on, letting Madison's pop music play from her iPod.

I slowly walked up to my delicate girlfriend as she finished the last bites of her meal. "You must be tired." I gripped her shoulders firmly and started to massage the knots in her shoulders. "Wanna watch something on Netflix? They finally have Shark Week."

"Mmm…" she rolled her head and flexed her neck muscles as I continued massaging her. "I'm actually restless. Too much sedentary time spent on the airplane and I feel wide awake."

"What did you have in mind?" I said through gritted teeth, already knowing her answer.

She stood up with this boyish smile and gave me a peck on the lips. "It's Friday night! We should go rage or something. What do you think?"

I sighed. "Not what I had in mind, but whatever you want to do, I guess." I was hoping she'd be considerate and maybe we can compromise on an idea…

"Awesome!" She kissed my cheek and made her way towards my room. "I'm just gonna freshen up first."

…but of course, drowning out her feelings in liquor and pretending like they don't exist were the most alluring option. Feels like nothing's changed since she left.

Liz took my hand and twirled me around, gripping my hips and gyrating hers into mine. I tried my best to laugh it off, but I couldn't help shaking my head slightly. She gave me a quick kiss and made her way down the hallway.

"Oh, babe?" She stuck her head out from by room. My arms were firmly crossed as I looked up at her. "Thanks for dinner! It was the best meal I've ever had," she grinned. "Dessert when we get back?" Liz winked.

I gave her a half smile before she disappeared and I proceeded to put leftovers away. I bit into an asparagus and finished my wine. Well… so much for that.

When we got to Here Lounge, I had this overwhelming sense of discomfort. I was _not_ in the mood for going out with my girlfriend. The music was deafening. The girls were way more intoxicated, which led to people bumping into one another and one girl spilling her AMF all over my shoes. Even though the patio was outdoors, I was choking on cloud after cloud of cigarette smoke. On any given night, I could easily join in on the fun and drown out the chaos. Hell… I could even indulge in it! But tonight, I was _not_ feeling it.

"Hey! You guysss!" Jton yelled from her usual, faux candle-lit table. Madison looked up and was equally ecstatic to see us… more so my girlfriend than me.

"Liz!" She squealed, jumping up from her cozy spot next to Jton. I had to admit that my top looked really good on her, but that's beside the point. She's still a cock block… or I guess… a twat swat! "You maaade it!" Not to mention, my roommate's trashed.

I glanced around the table to see four unfamiliar faces – well, technically two. There was one couple heavily making out in the corner, and the other couple nestled into one another, having a very thought-provoking conversation on politics.

"Well, yeah! How could I miss this?" Huh… that's the biggest smile I've seen on my girlfriend's face in the past 2 weeks.

And as if on cue, Lady Gaga's _Poker Face_ started blaring throughout the club.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Goodness!" Madison gawked at me as if I were the DJ. "_This_ is my _song!_" My roommate bellowed almost louder than the song itself. "Let's dance!" She linked her arm around Liz's. Simultaneously, Jton handed her vodka soda over to my girlfriend as she chuckled to me over Madison dragging her down to the dance floor. "Don't worry, Spence!" My roommate yelled over her shoulder. "I'll return herrr!"

I waved them off with a tight smile, "Have fun!"

"M'ladyyy!" Jton was equally drunk. I turned towards her, surprised to see her jumping on the couch like Tom Cruise's 'I'm in love with Katie!' moment on Oprah. "What beverage can I pour you?"

"Oh my gosh, Jton!" I half gasped, half laughed at her. She jumped off, carefully stepping over her friends' feet… which was somewhat unsuccessful in her inebriated demeanor. Jton stumbled a little and I grabbed her before she crashed right into me.

"I'm… o-kayyy!" She nodded lazily, her soft bangs tousling my nose.

"You're quite the social butterfly." I referred to the table at large.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Jton briefly glanced at them. "These are some of my buddies. Tha's Gina and Nichole over therrre." Gina's blonde, shaggy 'do was getting even shaggier the way Nichole kept running her hands through as they made out. I could barely see Nichole's face, hiding behind that curtain of wavy, mousy brown hair. The only thing I could tell was she must've been wearing bright red lipstick with the stains on Gina's white collar. "And tha's Shay and Sarinda." They briefly paused their conversation to acknowledge me. "Guysss! This is Spencerrr. She's fuckin' awesome!"

"Hey Spencer!" Shay stuck out her hand for me to shake. She looked like she could work for Hollister, with her long tan legs and toned body, yet she seemed like a great person to have an intellectual conversation with… that is, if you can look past the legs. I might've gawked a little longer than deemed appropriate, but she graciously let that slide.

"Nice to meet you!" Sarinda placed her Long Island down and smiled at me with pearly whites that contrasted her dark skin. Her button-up shirt was open, generously exposing her neck and ample cleavage.

I seriously don't mean to stare, but c'mon guys! It's been awhile since I've had sex with my emotionally detached girlfriend!

"Ah, I know! You like vodka cran." Jton turned to pour me a drink.

I chuckled, "You know me well!"

"Spencer?" I heard a familiar raspy voice.

I turned my head and god damn… I don't know if it was the sexual frustration that was building up, but I couldn't help how heavy my jaw felt when I saw this sultry body strut towards me in a black tunic dress that was loose and flowy up top, but tightly hugging the perfect curves around those hips and thighs. Long, gorgeous legs which, I must say, put Shay's legs to shame, stemmed from these studded, black pumps that fastened around the ankles.

"Ashley," I blurted until too much time had passed for it to be deemed utterly awkward of me, Miss Gawky Gawkerson. I ripped my eyes from below and, with every effort, glanced at that pretty little face, framed in brown curls and red bangs.

"Didn't expect to see _you_ here." She genuinely seemed surprised. "I thought you and Liz—"

"_She_ wanted to go out." I nodded in absolution.

"Oh, well… I'm glad she got back safely!" Ashley smiled before she sipped her drink – a Dirty Martini. "Where is she?"

"On the dance floor with Madison."

"Hmm."

"Here you go, m'lady!" Jton handed me my drink before she plopped down next to Shay and Sarinda.

"How'd your dinner turn out?"

"It was great!" I nodded before she nodded with me. Great. We were having this highly superficial conversation, when I knew she could give two shits about what I cooked for my girlfriend.

"Great!"

"Right." I rolled my eyes.

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Look, I know you don't really give a shit about the dinner… or what I did for my girlfriend… any of it, really."

"I don't?"

"No, you're just being polite and it annoys the shit out of me." I was being honest for once.

"Why?"

"Are we _ever_ going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"C'mon, Ash! Don't play dumb with me… please!"

She looked behind me, concerned someone would eavesdrop. "Let's go over here." She motioned towards the bar away from the music and dance floor. I followed her and, at the same time, I was putting my foot down – _she_ needs to talk. I've done a lot of talking already.

When we got there, I leaned over the counter, my eyes glued on the shelves of alcohol behind the busy bartender. Ashley leaned her back on the counter, facing opposite of me, but also not looking at me.

"Well?" I huffed.

"Spence," she finally turned towards me, "there's nothing to talk about. I think I made myself pretty clear that I don't want to cause any problems."

"What if you weren't the one causing problems, Ash? What then?" I gawked back at her, waiting for a response that would never come. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself.

"Can we just… forget it ever happened, Spence?" Ashley spoke so calmly. For some weird reason, I felt a pang in my chest.

"You _kissed_ me, Ash. You told me you _love_ me!"

"I know what I said!"

"And now you're asking me to for—"

"I'm not asking," she shook her head, "I'm _begging_ you to forget what I said."

"Then, why'd you say it?!"

"I didn't mean it!" She blurted. Another pang. "I was… confused. You touch me and something happens to me, and I can't think right!" I just shook my head at her, biting my tongue from saying awful things and holding down the urge to slap her... and then kiss her. Ugh, what's wrong with me? This is so frustrating. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I shouldn't have done what I did that night. I was out of line."

Why did it hurt? Did I _want_ it to be true?

"Fine," I snarled. "Consider it forgotten."

"Hey, there you are." A voice squealed from behind me as I turned around. She was this dark-haired girl in a scantily clad dress, gawking at the awkward brunette next to me. "It got a little lonely waiting for you in the bathroom. What took you?" She now glanced at me, slightly annoyed at my presence as jealousy swarmed her mind.

Ashley threw on a smile and was now sporting her game face, having that dangerously coy look that could bait any girl. But because I knew better, all I could see was the old Ashley and the look I had come to hate.

"I ran into a good friend of mine," the brunette signaled her over, snaking an arm around her once she was within reach. I would hardly consider Ashley as a friend at this point, but hey, I'm a good sport. I can play along with the charade. "This is Spencer."

The girl needed no introduction. I recognized that fake-flower-in-hair look. "Nice to meet you," I nodded, refusing to extend a hand.

"Spencer," Ashley's gaze landed on me, "This is Leilani, but I'm sure you knew that already."

I squinted at her, trying to figure out what type of game she was trying to play here.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" The dark-haired girl spoke out of curiosity.

"Because I've heard so much about you… from Ashley." Two can play this game. "She's always talking about you."

Leilani's eyes gleamed and her smile grew wide. "Really?"

"Yeah," I smirked, knowing my tone was dripping with spite, "You're _really_ something special."

I don't know why I didn't just shut my mouth and walk away. The bullshit I was feeding Leilani caused the girl to squeal and aggressively press her sloppy mouth (God knows where that's been!) all over Ashley's divine lips. I felt the bile in my stomach stir and I had wished I vomited right then and there… right all over her white stilletos. I hate her. Something about her spells "pretentious." I wasn't sure what it was, but I got that vibe.

This strange bitterness that consumed me was also confusing. Maybe I hated the idea of Ashley dating… because that meant we wouldn't be able to hang out as much. Maybe I missed her… or I mean… I missed hanging out with her. I was just getting to know her and now someone else gets to see the intimate side of Ashley. And now, this hussy's thin, shitty lips had tainted the perfection that is Ashley's. There's a reason why people in museums yell at you for touching the art. I was about to do the same when Madison plopped down onto the bar right next to me.

"Biiiiitch!" She spun me around before laughing at her drunken stupor. "Spencerrrrrr… I fucking loooove youuu!"

"Grow your own Spencer." Liz draped her arm over my shoulders, nestling herself on the other side of me. "This one's mine, Mad!" She joked.

Madison grinned, "Ffffffucking Liz. You're so… awesome."

"Of course I am!" She smirked as she tried to flag down the bartender.

My roommate turned to me, "So, you've met Leilani, right? Is she totally hot or what?!" I nodded, failing miserably at acting impressed, but she wouldn't have noticed otherwise. "Jton and I did goooood!"

"Eh, she's not really my cup of—"

"Madison, babe!" Jton wrapped her arms around my roommate's waist and I was suddenly invisible to her. She whispered something in her ear along the lines of wanting to dance, which masked her real intention of wanting to shamelessly make out.

"Be right back, Spence!" Madison blurted before Jton dragged her away with such resolve.

"Three dollars!" The bartender yelled over the music as Liz drew some bills from her wallet. I turned to her and couldn't help but notice the back of Ashley's head from the other side of my girlfriend. It didn't take a genius to tell that she was still at the mercy of those thin, shitty lips. The bitterness in me grew like a gnarly tumor once the realization set in that while Ashley was avoiding me all week, she was courting this tasteless and unworthy being.

"It's happy hour, sweetie!" Liz grabbed the very blue AMF in front of her. She threw the straw aside and began gulping eagerly. "Three-dollar well drinks. Did you want something to drink?"

That question… and being in this moment and being in a place and situation I didn't want to be in just made me hit a wall. Nothing about tonight sat right with me. Not the happy hour drinks and the ridiculously loud music. Not Ashley and that fake flower girl. Not Madison's desire to rain on my plans. Not the sex appeal that was all around me and the sexual frustration that was building. And certainly not Liz and her desires to drown out her issues. That's when it hit me: We're that couple that seems right as rain on the outside, but doesn't ever resolve our issues on the inside. We're that couple that never talks about their problems. How did we ever get here? I couldn't take it. It was too much for me to deal with in that moment.

"No thanks, hun. You enjoy yourself." I turned to leave, but Liz grabbed my hand.

"Whoa. What's going on?"

"This," I shook my head, crossing my arms, "just isn't my scene tonight. I'm going home."

"C'mon, Spence." She scoffed. "I haven't seen you all week. I just wanted to spend some time with you."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged, "so did I, but you seem to want to acquaint yourself with the Cuervo. So, I'm gonna go."

"I thought you wanted to have fun tonight."

"_You_ wanted to have fun. _You_ wanted to go out. I wanted to stay in and just enjoy being with my girlfriend. Is that too much to ask?"

"Wait," she placed her drink on the bar, "why is it always about you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "_Excuse_ me? I've done nothing but bend over backwards for you. I've been doing all these nice things for you and have been patiently waiting for you to _want_ to talk to me about what's going on with you."

"Look who's talking! You can't even be so honest as to tell me how the concert went."

"Alright, you want to know? I had a shitty time! Donny bailed on me and I ran into my ex. Not the way I wanted to spend my evening." Not to mention, the brunette behind you made out with me and confessed her feelings for me, bailed on me, and later told me she didn't mean it. Oh yeah! Can't forget that!

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "I _wish_ you could be a little more sensitive to the fact that I just lost my grandmother, Spence. I told you I would've been there if—"

"I'm not insensitive, sweetie! I get that! But you gotta give me something here. You're so closed up, I don't know what to do." I threw my hands up in frustration.

"And the times I want to talk to you," she started counting on her fingers, "you cut our date short, you forget we have a lunch date, you're filling someone's shift at the café, you're locked in a bathroom…"

"That's not my fault, Liz!" I interrupted.

"I know, but my point is… you're never there."

"How can you even say that?" I was utterly flabbergasted.

"And even when you _are_ there, you look like you've got more important things on your mind like…"

"Ashley?!" I heard this shrieking noise. "What the fuck?!"

I glanced to my right and noticed a fuming, messy blonde push her way to the brunette. She slapped Ashley on the shoulder. It was Yvette. Oh, great. As if the universe didn't think this moment was chaotic enough.

"Take it easy, Yvette." Ashley held her hand up, trying to quell the situation.

"Is this the skank you dumped me for?!" Well, _she's_ one to talk.

Leilani scoffed, "Oh hell no…" She started to inch up to the crazy blonde. Suddenly, I heard a loud smack and saw Ashley face turned to the side. The bitch slapped Ashley!

Without hesitation, I threw my drink at her. Yvette gasped and watched the droplets run down her outfit.

"Don't you _ever_ lay your hands on her!" I shoved her back. "Get the fuck out!"

"…Spencer?!" Her look changed from angry to desperate. "Hey, how come you never called me?" The girl was a hot mess, minus the hot. She was also quite inebriated. Go figure.

"Because I'm not attracted to trash, but I'll call you if I've severely lowered my standards."

Her expression went back to raging and she charged at me like a bull to a matador. "You little shit!" Before she could reach me, a tall burly man grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. "Get off me!" She flailed her arms and legs about.

"You four… out." He barked sternly, allowing us a head start before he let the crazy bitch out into the wild.

I turned to look at Ashley who seemed a bit shocked at how things had turned out. But even though it wasn't my most graceful moment, I could see the gratitude in her eyes.

Liz, on the other hand, looked thoroughly disappointed and embarrassed. But, I'm sure it had to do with something more than the fact that I'd ruined her happy hour.

She trudged up next to me. "Maybe your response to that girl should've been about the fact that you're already in a relationship." Are you serious right now?! "But I guess it shows me where I rank in the scheme of things." Ouch.

She brushed past me and made her exit. I turned and watched her walk away as the fearful realization hit me that I just might be seeing her walk away from me more often that not… because, God forbid, we actually talk our issues out.

"That was really cool of your friend to do that," Leilani muttered to the awkward brunette. Oh yes, that's me. Ashley's _friend_. Never mind that we were introduced a few minutes ago. No, Ashley's friend does _not_ have a name.

"Yeah," Ashley husked. "Let's go." Her tone seemed indifferent to the flower girl. Maybe Ashley was just as distracted as I was. I don't know. It was a clusterfuck of mixed signals that I didn't have time to analyze at the moment. Besides, she made it pretty damn clear she wanted me to forget about her.

I wordlessly rushed out before them. Before I had to look at Ashley again. Because if I had to look at her one more time tonight, I knew that forgetting her would be impossible.


End file.
